Battling the unchanging flow of Time
by ArmsofSorrow
Summary: The story that follows the endeavors of young tactician Robin, who, despite his amnesia and growing anxiety, is determined to change the fate of the world.
1. Introduction to evil

For that one moment, the world looked at peace.

The sun, which had been hiding it's radiant face behind thunderous clouds all day, finally decided to break away from them and was now painting the landscape orange with its benevolent sunrays. The sea was shimmering healthily and lazily clashed against the white cliffs.

Atop the cliffs sat a lonely figure, clad in a purple robe of plegian making. He had white hair, which was cut short and partly hidden in his hood. The man seemed to be observing the stretched out sea with growing concentration.

"Robin? …Robin?"

The man slowly turned around, annoyance clearly visible on his face, though his look quickly changed when he recognized the man calling him out.

"Good afternoon Chrom, what gives?"

"Bad news."

The man was dressed particularly practical for a man his status; light armour, characteristic blue cape and, strangely enough, only one shoulder protected by a plate of metal. Maybe it was to show off the beautiful brand that was shown on his other shoulder: The Brand of the Exalt.

He stretched out his arm to help his partner up, which gratefully took it.

"Is it Risen?" Robin asked, growing distress on his face. Only a nod from Chrom, then moment of silence between the two.

"…How bad?"

"They overran a local village, it's a twenty minute match from here."

Robin sighed. "Why was I not informed of this before you were? Who was on scout duty today?"

"…Cordelia." Chrom admitted.

"Of course it was her. Go figure." Robin let out a highly audible annoyed sigh before pulling his hood over his head and starting to walk downhill.

"Let's go. Rally up the Shepherds, the main force can't afford to be slowed down."

Chrom smiled. "Heh, Alright Tactician."

* * *

"Sir Robin! The village is up ahead!"

From further up the road Robin spotted a familiar figure meeting the Shepherds, which were advancing swiftly to the village. The man, heavily plated atop his armoured horse, met the group halfway through.

"Frederick...? What were you doing so far ahead of us?"

"I was scouting the area to ensure Milord a safe arrival at our destination."

Robin glared at the big man. "Picking up pebbles again, huh. Anyway, Shepherds! On me!"

The band of soldiers quickly formed a circle around Robin, waiting for his orders.

Raising his voice, the Tactician confidently began. "Listen up everyone! The area we will be fighting in shortly is a small rural village! We do not have eyes on the battlefield, so we are going in blind on this one! I'm going to take 6 of you and pair you up. I believe this will aid you with fighting in the small streets and corners, is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir!" Said the Shepherds in unison.

"Then let's go!"

"Yes, Sir!"

* * *

And that's how they had ended up in this situation. For this battle, Robin had gone with Frederick, Kellam, Chrom, Stahl, Lissa and lastly himself. He had been very cautious in picking those 5, making sure to pick the hard hitting soldiers in the convoy who were suited to take a whopping. Risen were known for their tremendous power after all.

However, despite Robins careful planning the battle had gone completely awry. An unknown force had suddenly entered the field of conflict from the houses and chaos quickly ensued after that.

"Gods, those dastards! Robin! We need orders!" Shouted Chrom. He let out an enraged roar before driving his sword deep into the flesh of an Entombed. Slimy yellow blood spurted out when he yanked his sword back, and this held his foe back when it mindlessly launched back an attack of its own. The Exalt-to be dodged it effortlessly, and watched as his opponent was finished off by a javelin thrown by Frederick.

Robin was just finishing up a Risen of his own a street further. His foe violently slashed its armed around, letting out a howling groan. Robin went down on his knee to dodge the slash, then quickly whipped his leg forward, kicking the beast on his back. He finished it off with forcefully planting his sword in his foes chest.

"Gods, what have we gotten ourselves into.."

"Robin!"

Chrom came running towards the strategist, with Frederick following him closely.

"We have to get out of here Robin!"

"Milord! Watch out!"

Frederick pulled Chrom back and made the arrow meant to take his Liege's life miss by a hairs breath. "Enemy assassin!"

Frederick quickly prepared a javelin and the enemy assassin, after assessing the situation, deciding to nock another arrow. It was a standoff between an unknown enemy and a Great Knight of proportion. Frederick aimed and lifted his arm, but the assassin was faster. It drew back its bow and for a moment it seemed like Chrom 's death was certain. But, in a surprising twist it was taken out by a fire spell cast by none other than Robin. It gurgled in pure agony as it found its demise in the bath of flames it was delivered.

"And that's that."

"Robin, we have to get out of here!" Urged Chrom.

"I know! Give me a second!" Shouted Robin.

Robin took a deep breath, and by sound, smell and vision drew out a map of the changed battlefield. He and Chrom were right in the middle of the village. During the battle he had been separated from Lissa, luckily she had been able to fend for herself since her promotion to War Cleric, and she seemed to be doing well one block away from them. Kellam and Stahl appeared to be close by as well, engaging the enemy.

"Okay, I got it down. Hand me the tome." Said Robin. Chrom did as he was asked, and gave Robin a peculiar red tome which appeared to be shining with mana.

Robin took the tome, closed his eyes, and seconds later a red beam shot up before exploding mid air, making a sizzling noise. It was a flare signaling the Shepherds to gather at up, and as soon as the combating troops took notice of it they made a break for the target location. Robin, who had found an elevated position atop one of the roofs of the village, counted them one by one. And when he was sure he got all of his units he ordered them inside the house to discuss strategy. It was agreed that the best approach to this situation would be a stealth war.

What followed were two excruciating hours of guerilla warfare. The battle had shifted from damaging heavily and taking hits head on to moving silent and securing kills swiftly. In a stroke that one could either consider brilliant or moronic the fighters clad in armour had to remove it in order to remain stealthy and undetected (except for Kellam, the man had a fascinating gift for staying unwillingly unnoticed by anyone, which Robin had taken notice of). It was a true double or nothing tactic. Heavy risk and high reward. And (luckily) they had succeeded. Night had dawned and the moon was shading the village in its graceful light, hiding the undead corpses in the shadows of the streets.

Robin found an exhausted Chrom atop a hill stretching out over the village, hands resting on his sword, which was firmly planted in the ground.

"Hello Chrom."

The blue- haired man slowly turned around.

"What in damnation happened here today Robin?"

"This happened." Robin held up a sizeable box, gold in colour and giving off a disgusting stench. It reeked of dead meat. "This box… attracts the Risen, our Ylissean soldiers use it to lure them off to a desolated area and finish them off in groups."

"How did it fall into 'their' hands though?"

"I have no idea. Today's enemies don't seem to be hired mercenaries, but they certainly knew what they were doing. I have sent word to the main troop to send scouts to the surrounding area, to see if we can get more info on their whereabouts or origin."

"Good. That's good."

Chrom let out a tired yawn and began walking downhill.

Robin watched him, smiled weakly and disposed of the box by lighting it on fire with an Elfire tome, leaving it to burn in the silver moonlight.

"What have I gotten myself into.."


	2. That nightmare

"This is it, our final battle!"

"… Damn, this dream again?"

Robin's blurry vision cleared up to reveal one of the most ominous halls he had ever witnessed. The room was sparsely lit by the candles from one side, and the wails and screams of the undead echoing through his mind from the other side scared him witless. He glanced at their source. Gods, there were so many. To his right there were heaps of Risen, pushing and pounding on the magic barrier.

"Oh Naga, what do I do?" Robin thought. He then noticed the weapons in his possession. A sword; long, sharpened blade, very expensive material, weight of a silver sword. And a tome, yellow of colour and brimming with mana, he recognized it as the high level spell Thoron.

This assured Robin. At least he had the means to defend himself against the horde that was outside the barrier. He was still unsure to what he had to do though, until he heard those familiar words again that had haunted him every night since his awakening in that field.

"You're one of us, Robin, and no "destiny" can change that."

He looked at the deliverer of that message. It was Chrom. Ah, now he knew what this was. Only now was he certain of what he should do, what his purpose was.

His purpose was to fight.

He looked ahead of them, their opponent was a tall, slender man, holding an outlandish tome which he felt was overflowing with dark mana. The man, who he judged to be in his mid- forties, was clothed like a plegian dark mage. A single name crossed his mind.

"Validar".

With his usual wit Robin sensed that Validar 's level of magic was not the level of just any ordinary dark mage. This man was probably one of their toughest foes yet. However, that was none of his concern now. His mind was set only on overpowering his enemy. No tactics, no wits, just a pure, raw face- off.

"Heh, how very unlike me." He said, while weakly smiling.

He slipped into a comfortable combat position: His left foot out, right foot back, tome in his right hand clenched to his torso and other hand pointing towards his foe.

"Chrom, let's go."

The Exalt simply answered with a reassuring nod, before drawing his blade and charging at Validar 's position. Letting out a fury filled roar Chrom leapt off in the air and lunged at his enemy. Validar dodged it by blinking out of the way and began charging a spell mid- air. Chrom, taking notice of his, turned around on his pivot leg the moment his feet touched the ground and made a break for a spot under the dark mage. A clever move, since Validar would have to reposition himself to hit him. And Validar did just that. This time he teleported to one of the nearby pillars, far enough for Chrom to not be able to reach him in time. The Exalt was in a pinch, as the Dark mage unleashed a devastating spell from his tome. "Grima 's Truth!" He belched triumphantly. Robin realized it was time for him to act. He concentrated his mana on his fingertips and began chanting in the ancient tongue, finishing it with a devastating "Thoron!". He fired of three rays of light, which intercepted the opposing spell in its trajectory. The collision made a bright flash and stunned the dark mage. Of course he was completely surprised when immediately after the effect subsided none other than the Chrom, who had closed his eyes during the explosion to avoid getting blinded, popped up right next to him to lunge him with his Falchion. His lightening reflexes allowed him to quickly blink backwards, but this time he did not escape unscathed. He painfully undid the buttons of his robe to reveal a gaping wound from chin to belt. He was hit badly. He tried to suppress the bleeding with his right arm, but to no avail.

"Chrom let's finish this!" Shouted Robin.

The next moment seemed to last forever. The two comrades started an unrelenting assault of attacks. The two 's attacks complimented each other perfectly. Chrom at the front line unleashed a flurry of dabs, strikes and lunges, Robin at the back line covering his comrades back with spells, singling out Validar 's attacks and getting in good hits in the mean time. The duo attacked in unison, and without even looking at each other they were able to drive the dark mage into a corner. Their synergy made it quite apparent that they had faced a lot of strong foes together.

Validar was on his last legs, any attack _he_ attempted was futile and on top of that he barely had any time to defend against _theirs_ . He realized he had lost, and in that one moment he wavered he faced a full frontal strike and a lightning fast Thoron.

Validar fell to his knees, and then face- first hit the ground. Robin let out a sigh of relief, and Chrom turned around with a reassuring smile forming on his lips. But suddenly Validar rose up again to fire off a spell at Chrom. It was undodgeable, so Robin acted out of instinct and pushed Chrom out of harm's way, taking the brunt of the attack. Strangely enough he didn't seem to be hurting anywhere, even though he wasn't sure if that was a given or that it was just the adrenaline coursing through his body. That aside, it seemed that this time the dark mage had finally found his rest. As his corpse lay lifeless on the ground.

"That's the end of him." Chrom sighed. He helped his partner up. "Thanks to you we carried the day."

"Yes, at long last."

Robin felt relieved, but this soon subsided as he felt a feeling of dread He sensed something taking over his body, his vision became blurry and he started to pass out.

"Robin? Hey, what 's wrong-? " Chrom 's eyes widened in surprise, and as he arched back Robin saw what he had done. A bolt of light was poking out of Chrom 's abdomen. The final words Robin heard were Chrom 's. "This.. I- is not your f-fault.. Ug-h.." Chrom 's body hit the ground. And Robin had to watch in horror as he saw the last traces of life leaving his friend's body.

Fear and angst overcame Robin and he let out a terrified scream, while all he could hear was Validar 's tormenting laughter echoing in his head. Robin screamed and screamed. The walls begun spinning and before he knew it the ground underneath him collapsed leaving him to plunge to his death.

* * *

"AAAH!" Robin shot up from his lying position and almost fell out of his bed.

His initial panicking slowly subsided and after his eyes had accommodated to his surroundings he recognized the familiar shape of his tent. It was that nightmare again. That horrifying dream that had been haunting him since the day Chrom and Lissa had found him lying in that field. He smelled his own sweat and this urged him to get up and dispose of his bed sheets. He grabbed his overcoat and put it on, then pulled up a chair and rested his head on the small table in front of him. He knew what he was going to do. Small drawer, second row from above in the small cupboard beneath him. He slowly pulled it open and spread its contents on the table, but not before letting out a deep sigh. He grabbed his feather, dipped it in ink and started writing.

* * *

Morning dawned upon the Shepherd encampment and Lissa was taking a regular stroll around the camp. Since that fateful night in the forest she had accepted the nature for what it was, and now she actually preferred waking up early to partake in all the little rituals the morning had to offer. She was no longer that little spoilt princess from a few months ago,a fact she loved to inform the other Shepherds about. She was just about to return to her tent as she noticed that the entrance of the tent belonging to Robin was still open. Being the nosey little princess she was, she decided to take a quick peek. Inside she found, much to her dissatisfaction, a Robin asleep on his desk, feather still lazily in his right hand. Her initial thought was to wake him up and give him a good scolding (something she had decided was her right, since she was the one that found him in that field), but a much better idea devilishly found it 's way to her brain. She snuck out, returning with a big, bloated frog she had picked up from the nearby pond. She snuck up to a unsuspecting Robin, and, with no conscience, promptly dropped the critter down his neck.

"AAAH!" Robin let out a surprised scream and shot up from the chair, invoking a loud laughter from Lissa. Robin, in a state of total confusion soon took notice of Lissa standing right next to him. In a moment of anger he shot out a spark of fire, which ended up only _just_ missing Lissa and the tent.

"You have to stop these horrible pranks Lissa. "

"But you are way too fun to leave alone Robin!" Lissa managed to get out between her spurts of laughter.

"… I'll take that as a compliment. Kindly get out of my tent now?"

"No, I think I will stay here." Said a playful Lissa.

Robin laughed. "Okay, if you don't mind me changing right in front of you I have no objections." He said slyly.

"You wouldn't dare!" Lissa said. "What is Chrom going to do when he finds out you have exposed yourself to his sister?"

She was provoking him, and Robin was diligently going along with her little scheme.

"Guess we will have to find out won't we?" He took his overcoat of, slowly unbuttoning it clasp by clasp. Lissa stood there, arms crossed. When Robin reached his smallclothes he gave her a playful look. She laughed. "You wouldn't dare."

And in that moment Lissa really did believe that Robin wasn't going to do it. But when she saw him reach for his boxers she let out a surprised shriek and jumped out of the tent.

"Oh Robin you pervert!" She yelled out with her eyes closed. Only to receive back a healthy laugh from Robin. He came walking out the tent wearing his usual robe. Got up close to her and said. "Got you." Lissa couldn't take it. Blood shot up her head and she pushed him aside before running away in a haze.

"This isn't the end of this, Robin! You hear me?"

Robin only replied with laughing. And waved her off before she disappeared from sight. He then looked back at his tent.

"Right. Survived another night…"

* * *

 **So I kinda forgot to do this for my first chapter, but better late then never am I right?**

 **This is my first attempt at a fanfic. And I picked Fire Emblem: Awakening because I have literally spent over 340 hours on that game (crazy, I know). I was planning on uploading this chapter next week, you'know, get into some kind of working flow. But dammnit I just had too much fun writing this. The line I'm trying to hold now is to write some action and dialogue each chapter, but I'm not gonna shy out from exposition from time to time.**

 **Well, that's it I guess. I hope you have enjoyed reading this as much as I had writing it. If you like it, please consider posting a review (doesn't have to be extensive at all), as far as I know you don't need an account for writing one.**

 **Byeee**

 **~Arms_of_Sorrow**


	3. The village where darkness resided

"Ah, Robin, there you are."

"Good morning, Chrom."

Robin slowly entered the strategy tent. He spotted the familiar map of Plegia spread out on a large table, which filled up most of the tent, leaving little room to move. Despite that the tent was actually quite spacious.

Robin took his familiar place near Chrom at the head of the table, and began on that day's subject matter. "This map," he said, whilst pointing at the map in front of him. "Is outdated, and inaccurate to boot. The scouts I have sent out reported three Plegian fortresses here, here, and finally, here."

This statement caused a lot of unrest among men gathered in the room. But Robin was not done yet. "This is a huge oversight, but I profoundly believe that we have the means of overcoming those in at least two months, if we play this smart."

From the backline of the attendants a man spoke up "That is too long! Gangrel is not going to wait for us. You know he wants to stall us and kill of Emmerynn in that time." The man was medium sized in terms of height, had a dark skin tone and was clad like a warrior: medium armour, which was yellow of colour, battlers braces and a decorated neck- area lined with vibrant feathers. Robin recognized him by the characteristic eye- patch he wore on his right eye. It was Basilio, former Khan of the country north to Ylisse, Ferox. "If we are still intending to save the Exalted Emmerynn, we have two weeks at best. I propose you let me and my boys have a crack at their toughest one, rather than the temporary Exalt and the Ylisseans here. My axe is dulling from all these Risen."

Robin sighed and rubbed his chin with his right hand. A pose he only held when he had to make difficult decisions.

"… Alright, our main troop of Ylisseans will take on the other two. As for the time being, I see no benefit in me personally attending the battle, so I will leave this in your hands, Basilio. Messenger!" A normal foot- soldier entered the tent. "Yes, Sir?"

"Inform Khan Flavia that she hereby has full control over our forty percent of our main troop along with Basilio."

"Yes, sire!"

And with that, the meeting had come to its end. Basilio left to make preparations for the sieges with his female counterpart and Robin folded the map and put it back in its usual resting place. He then left the tent, returning to his own abode for the rest of the day.

* * *

"Robin."

Robin looked up from his desk to greet the man that had entered his room.

"Good afternoon, Gaius." He threw the thief a bag of sweets, which the receiver eagerly caught.

"I'm back from scouting the surrounding area. It seems that the group that ambushed you a few days ago is a particularly devoted branch of Grimleal, led by a shadowy figure under the name of Fergus. No idea if that's his real name, that's just what he goes by in these parts."

Robin shifted uncomfortably in his chair, crossing his legs and putting down his writing feather.

"Do you have a location?" He asked, giving Gaius his undivided attention. The thief responded with a simple nod before pulling out a small map from his pockets. "We are currently stationed here. It is said that the Grimleal gather here at night, sacrificing harmless victims to the Fell Dragon and using their humanly remains to compose reeking boxes rather than the dead cattle we in the army always use." Robin blinked.

"That's disgusting."

Gaius nodded, and thoughtfully put a lollypop in his mouth.

" We have to put a stop to this." Said Robin. He stood up and pulled his hood over his head, preparing to leave the tent, but Gaius grabbed his arm. "Listen, umm…. The way I acquired this information… It was too easy Robin, I have no idea if there were spies in the villages I visited. Please bear in mind this could very well be a trap."

Robin was all too aware of this, but he had a plan. "I am aware of that, but don't worry. I already have cooked something up. Plus I have some aces up my sleeve." He smiled. "I'm going to round up the Shepherds after talking this over with Chrom, you go make preparations to leave." With that, he left the thief to fend for himself.

It was nearing sunset when the Shepherds left the main camp, Robin had somehow procured a horse from the ever so merciless Sully, and he mounted it uncomfortably. He stared at the impending sun and it was at that moment that Robin realized that this journey could become way more perilous than he could imagine.

* * *

After a long march the Shepherd's had finally arrived at a small village, which, like many others, was surviving off its agriculture. Robin descended from his horse and let out a sigh of exhaustion. The other Shepherds were also quite fatigued from the trip, so it was decided they'd spent the night at the first inn they'd encounter.

The hostess of the inn was a kind middle- aged lady, who seemed to be running it all alone without her late husband to be aiding her. She led Robin to his room for the night, and, after saying greeting him, left the room silently.

Robin 's first impulse was to crash immediately, but he knew there were more pressing matters to attend to. Through his window, he scaled the roof, and, even though it was tough to see at night, familiarized himself with the layout of the village. He did this until he felt he had gained a general understanding of its pathways' twists and turns. The inn the Shepherds were currently staying at was situated at the far edge of the village, connected to one the three main roads that ran through the village, which joined together at a cozy plaza with a small church. The troop had brought their steeds; horses, wyverns and pegasi alike, to a stable just outside town. In case of emergency it would take up to eight minutes to reach the stables from their current position.

"…Robin? What are you doing up on the inns roof?"

Robin heard a familiar voice coming from his chamber. He glanced down to see Chrom 's concerned face sticking out of his window.

"Ah, Chrom. Give me a second."

Robin awkwardly climbed back into his room.

"Why were you up the roof?"

"I was scanning the town."

Chrom raised an eyebrow. "You never check an area _yourself_ unless you're certain that you will do battle there… Do you think there is a chance of us being ambushed here?" He asked, with a small hint of disbelief.

"Not " _think_ ". I am _certain_ we will have to do combat here sooner or later. I have a hunch the Grimleal have eyes in this village."

The exalt sighed and closed the window. "When will they make their move?" he asked.

"Probably tomorrow night." Answered Robin.

"Gods…" sighed Chrom.

"Don't worry." Said Robin. "I have a few aces up my sleeve." Robin was about to show Chrom out, when his eyes widened in shock. He noticed something only the Ylissean tactician could've noticed. The faint smell, the barely audible sounds, it's not something just anyone could've perceived. But Robin did, and it filled him with horror. Chrom was about to ask him what was wrong, but Robin signaled him to remain silent. Very discreetly he took up the silver sword he had brought, and positioned himself in front of his closed door, Chrom warily drew his falchion too, which gave off a beautiful shimmer from the moonlight entering from the window, and followed suit. They stood there for a few seconds, until Robin suddenly shouted: "Everyone! Battle stations!" He kicked the door open the door and made a wild swing outward, promptly killing a man holding a pitchfork, the force of his strike blew his victim back in an angry mob of villagers.

"Capture the Branded One! Kill the Exalted!" shouted a young voice from the crowd. "Chrom! Switch with me!" Shouted Robin. He parried a diagonal slash of a bronze sword with his right hand, and made a 180 turn to allow his ally in, who jumped at the opportunity and dashed forward, lunging his blade at a rampaging villagers. Chrom 's strike pierced his foes' lungs and Robin, deciding widening their playing field would profit them greatly, switched to attacking by magic, blasting a hole in the wall with a devastating Arcfire spell. Chrom pulled his sword back, and barely dodged an incoming lop by rolling back. His opponent lopped at him a second time with his primitive farming tool.

Chrom decided to try to disarm his opponent instead of trying to harm the man directly, since he couldn't get close enough because of the length of the "weapon" his opponent was wielding. Two middle aged man popped up behind him to aid their comrade, but as always Robin had the Exalt 's back. He blasted the two against a wall, killing them on the spot. This gave Chrom the space he needed. With his brute power he split his opponents weapon in half as if it was a twig, going for the man himself after that. He closed the distance between them in a split second, before violently beheading him with one brute swing. These men were out for blood, so he had no time to show compassion. Still in the movement of his previous strike he used the momentum to spin into another, covering a wide arc and driving the horde of people back a few steps, into a position where Robin could finish them off with an Elwind, a tome he had switched to so he could hit multiple targets in a straight line. "Chrom! Robin!" a voice, which Robin recognized to be Sumia 's, was calling them out from the other end of the hallway. Sumia was unarmed and running away from a mob of outraged villagers. Robin wanted to use his tome, but the spell ceased to form itself, he had sapped the book dry of its mana. "Damnit! Not now!" Cursed Robin. He drew his sword again and made a break for Sumia 's position, praying to the Divine Dragon that she wouldn't trip over a loose plank in the floor and be finished by the enemy. He met her halfway when he noticed Chrom was also making a rage – fueled dash in their direction. Seeing as how Chrom was more capable than he was but also more dangerous in the state the Exalt was currently in, he chose to grab Sumia as soon as she was in his range and jumped out of harm's way with her. Chrom 's vision turned muddy as he ended villager after villager. Each kill further fueling his bloodlust. His mind was going blank. He was about to go truly out of control but Sumia wasn't going to just allow it. She stopped it at the last moment by jumping on him and clinging to his back with all her might.

"Please, Chrom, no more.." She wailed. This was what snapped the Exalt out of his frenzy. He turned around and only managed to bring out a brief "Thank you." Before having to deal with another combatant.

"Sumia, here!" Shouted Robin. He threw her a bronze lance he had picked up from one of the dead villagers, and she clumsily caught it mid- air. "Pair up with Chrom, I'm going to find the others!"

"Yes Robin!"

He wasted no time. He could hear the fighting downstairs and concluded that the remaining Shepherds were already engaging the enemy. The stairs were blocked by a wall of fire that had caught on from his first spell, but he had no choice, since that was the only way down. He scaled it in three seconds, jumping down the stairs and bouncing off of one of the walls. Downstairs he found the remaining Shepherds, which had formed a line by the bar and were fighting the enemy.

"Damnit, too soon, it's too soon!" He thought, cursing himself for misjudging the situation.

But no, this was not the time to be losing your head over things like that. He steeled his mind and ran towards the fighting forces. Lon'qu and Vaike had teamed up and were at the front line along with Frederick, Stahl and Kellam, who had been cleaning their suits of armour at the time of the attack and had found no time to put it back on (which meant that they were once again fighting in their smallclothes). They were lucky to have Panne in their place taking all the hits Most of them barely scratched her thick Taguel hide anyway. He joined in on the fighting and the band was relieved to see their tactician still alive and kicking. Lissa was in the middle of the action, fervently healing her comrades and getting in the occasional hit or two with her broad axe. Her face lit up once she saw Robin next to her. But fear quickly made its way into her mind when she noticed the absence of her brother.

"Robin! What about Chrom?!" She yelled. "He is safe!" Answered Robin. He managed to tackle a adolescent boy trying to stab Lissa, throwing them tumbling on the floor. He quickly found his footing again and crawled on the boy 's belly, ruthlessly slitting his throat with his blade.

"It seems like the whole village has it out for us!" Resounded Chrom 's voice from the back of the room, while he and Sumia were descending the stairs. They soon too joined in on the fighting, and now that the Shepherds had regained their leader and tactician, the battle rapidly went towards their victory. But once the final villager had been finished off instead of resting in relief Robin climbed a table and yelled: "This not over yet! _They_ will be upon us soon!"

And as if they had been listening to him, seconds later a horde of Risen burst into the inn.

The smell of dead of dead bodies had spread to the forest, attracting the Risen to the village. Now they had entered the house that was already on the verge of going down in flames, furthering adding to the list of growing problems.

"Shepherds! Switch to Blessed weapons!" Ordered Robin.

The Blessed Weapon series.; An array of weapons crafted with the blessings of the Divine Dragon. Created by an underground group of extremely skilled weapon smiths and developed specifically for dealing with Risen. Extremely difficult to come b, but Anna, a travelling merchant that had joined the group a few weeks earlier (she was now residing with the main troop to sell her wares) had been able to procure an impressive amount of them. Robin had no idea how she'd managed it, but he surely wasn't complaining. Especially not now.

Robin knew that, even with the Blessed weapons, the battle would still develop to be extremely difficult. The Shepherds had already fought off an entire village after a tiring march, and now had to deal with a unknown amount of Risen.

"Robin, let's get a move on!" Shouted Chrom, while he made a lightning fast sweep which kept the mercenary class Risen at a safe distance. The fight had shifted from the collapsing building onto the streets outside the inn. Robin looked around. "Hmmm…They can't see me from down here…. Frederick! On me!"

Frederick shuffled a few meters closer Robin whilst fighting a group of undead. "Make it fast, tactician!" He gritted.

"Lend me your shoulders!" Said Robin.

The Great Knight raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon..?"

"Let me hop on your shoulders for a bit! Come on, there's no time to waste!"

Frederick looked at Robin with disbelief, which grew even bigger when he saw that his ally was dead serious. He did not have any time to respond though, as the mob of crawlers came upon him, loudly groaning and wailing. He took a brief breath, before taking a widespread stance and grabbing his spear at the very tip of its handle with both hands. The Risen were still running towards him. He calmed his mind and calculated the time he needed to react in distance. Five feet…. four feet… three feet… Now! He shifted his weight to his pivot leg, flexed his muscles, and, with one grand swing, took out all of them in a single attack. He mainly used the blunt grip of his spear, rather than the point, to break the spines of his attackers. Rendering them unable to move. Then he left them to rot on the place he had landed. He looked at Robin, which was observing him calmly. He put down his spear and let out a deep sigh.

"…All right. I have no idea why you want to mount me, but by all means, go ahead."

Robin nodded and climbed on the knights' back. He then took out an unusual tome and began chanting its ancient language. The air grew thick with mana, coloring it slightly green. It was the signal for all Shepherds to safely retreat behind Robin, dropping any fight they were engaging in immediately, regardless of how it was faring. Once everyone was behind Robin. He wrapped up the chant and finished with a loud "Valflame!" (A near legendary spell Robin had Chrom procure from the Royal Vault back in Yllistol). Immediately after the mana that was gathered in the sky was drawn towards one point, it combusted, unleashing a hellish fire. The explosion was devastating, and it blew a straight gap in the mob of Risen. This was the chance the Shepherds had been waiting for. Gathering their last stamina, they made a heated retreat from the Risen infested town, soon reaching its outskirts and finding their steeds. They were just about to leave when Gaius appeared from nowhere and walked up to Robin in dead silence. Grim look on his otherwise playful face.

Robin knew something was up.

"Robin.. There is hidden chamber under the stables and... Well… I think you should take a look for yourself.." said the thief with great sadness in his voice.

Robin knew that something terrible had happened, and when he, Chrom and Frederick opened the trap door leading to the underground space, they were horrified by what they found. On the ground were the women and children of the village, all dead, bloodied knifes clenched in their deceased hands.

"Suicide." Said Frederick.

A voice resounded from further in the room.

"Gods.. Oh Gods.."

Robin, followed by his allies, walked into the direction the voice came from. They discovered a sole survivor, curled up into a ball form against the cold wall, knees pulled up, head resting into two trembling hands. It was the kind lady which was running the inn they had slept at that day. A shocked Robin looked at her with disbelief, then noticed the clean, untouched knife in front of her.

"I- I couldn't do it.. They.. they said-" Robin sat down and grabbed her arms, locking eyes with her.

"…What happened?"

"The Grimleal… After Gangrel took over we had nothing.. We were barely surviving off of our agriculture, but most of the weeks the income wasn't enough. Our village was just about to go under when the Grimleal found us. They took care of us... helped us to overcome these difficult times.

But… they had a dark side to them… Every twenty- eight moon they required.. Sacrifices.. to appease their god. My husband and son were the first ones to go.. I was certain I was next, until their head priest began talking about a "branded one".

We were told that.. If we abducted him and brought him to the disciples, the killing would stop."

She paused and stared blankly at Robin's robe.

"… They are all dead, aren't they?"

Robin nodded, not being able to speak.

The woman fell silent and looked at the dark ceiling. "They.. The women gathered here assumed as much, and decided to join their husbands and sons in the afterlife….With their children…. I- I…" She looked Robin in the eyes with soulless eyes, pulling at the sword he wore in his belt. "Finish me, traveler. Let me be with them, for I have not the courage to do so…"

Robin was dumbfounded. He stood up, drawing his sword slowly in the process. He walked back a few paces and silently began building up ki inside his body. He took a combat stance, readied his muscles and only spoke one word.

"…Lethality."

* * *

That night had seamlessly blended into the next day. The Shepherds had left the hell that was that village, and Robin, joined by Lissa (who had, thank god, not witnessed that final moment in the stables) were standing at a bustling creek, both not speaking a word.

"Robin.. What you had to do today- It was-"

Robin looked at Lissa, the exhaustions and raw emotion causing dry tears to stream down his face.

"I'm scared, Lissa. But that's not what scared me the most. I would expect to feel any form of trauma or stress, but instead, here I stand, completely numb. Has this war hardened me that much? Or was I simply a maniac prior to the loss of my memories, not caring about the death of innocent people? I don't know, Lissa. Right now I don't feel _any_ emotions at all. I want- I want to feel something, _anything_. But I- I.." Robin didn't finish his sentence He closed his eyes, then wanted to say something again, but Lissa did not allow him to. The tactician suddenly felt the warmth of her small body pressed against his, and all he could do was sit there, healing his scars in her mother- like sea of warmth.

"This will be your emotion, Robin. You hear me? Copy this. This is what you should be feeling. Replace the darkness you bear with the light I bring.."

They sat there like that for several minutes, before Robin removed himself from her embrace and stood up. He smirked sourly.

"Heh, sounds an awful lot like a proposal to me."

Blood shot up to Lissa 's cheeks and she quickly distanced herself from him, struggling to find her composure again. "What was THAT Robin?! I try to be a good friend and that's all you have to say? Hmph! You're unbelievable! I will be seeing you around! Don't think I have forgotten this! I bid you farewell!" With that, she started walking back to the main camp, leaving Robin alone with his thoughts.

Robin remained still for a few more minutes, then turned around with overflowing determination.

"The Grimleal might not be our priority in this war, but I will promise this. I will find those dastards, and I will make them pay for what they have done. To every Grimleal, mark my words-

"All of you are finished."

* * *

 **Aaand that's it for chapter 3.**

 **Quite a big one this time, but I felt like shortening it would make some of the emotions come off as dull. Things kinda took a dark turn this chapter didn't they?**

 **But hey, more to read is always a plus right?**

 **Anyways, I think I have a good idea where I want to go with this.**

 **On a totally unrelated note, I'm thinking of doing a Fantasy Life fanfic! I have already layed the groundworks for it :D.**

 **Next chapter will continue this arc. I think I'm doing two more on this.**

 **That's all for this chapter... Please leave a review if you've enjoyed reading, or if you didn't enjoy it, I appreciate feedback as good as anything.**

 **Until next time**

 **Arms_Of_Sorrow**


	4. Gruelling Siege pt 1

Robin cursed his luck that day. The events of the previous night had stoked a fire in the Shepherds, a fire they only wished to extinguish by delivering justice to the Grimleal. However, duty had called the next day. The main troop had had difficulties with the siege of one of the two Plegian fortresses, and Basilio and Flavia were too occupied with their own siege to be able to help out. Hence the Shepherds' presence was requested at the frontlines.

Only when Robin and the band arrived at the main camp did they realize how desperate the situation was. From the eight groups of foot- soldiers that were sent in through the small breach in the bottom left corner of one of the towers only twelve soldiers had returned, four of them heavily wounded and in a state of complete disarray. The sane survivors spoke of the unspeakable horrors that they had witnessed inside the halls of the hell fortress.

Robin was in his temporary tent, seated lazily on a wooden chair, reading the reports regarding the contents of the fortress, according to eyewitnesses. Chrom was also there, standing in the opening of the tent as Robin read the parchment out loud.

"Sergeant Mac Rodent; aged twenty- two, leading a group of fifteen foot soldiers at the time of the invade. Sergeant Mac reported that initially the room was pitch- black. The air was supposedly felt very thick and it was hard to breathe. Then, total chaos. Black magic seemed to blast from everywhere, killing off half of his squad in a matter of seconds. With the second squad present however they managed to make a break for the more inner part of the stronghold. Where they surprisingly didn't find a single soldier but instead were ambushed by- " Robin blinked in disbelief when he read the next word on the parchment. He looked at Chrom. "Ambushed by risen.. Gods." He threw the paper down and looked at Chrom, who returned his gaze with a stern expression. "So that's where they have been hiding." Chrom turned around and faced the sun. "I'm going to make preparations to get us in there a.s.a.p. In the meantime I want you to prepare a sound strategy, Tactician."

Robin smiled. Chrom 's royal upbringing was showing. Robin stood up and made a graceful bow.

"Yes, milord."

* * *

Robin had tried everything. He came up with a number of strategies, of which the outcome he then envisioned in great detail. The use of wyverns and pegasi would be an instant disaster. Getting them into the fortress in the first place would prove extremely difficult. Anyone trying to storm the fortress would end up getting engulfed in a hail of arrows, and flying steeds were weak to arrows in the first place. Then you had the predicament of getting them to fight inside the castle. Reports spoke of there being no to little vision inside, so the winged troops would have had to fight in pitch black, not knowing where the ceilings and walls were, all the while getting bombarded with spells.

So that approach wouldn't work. Second on the list: a troop of strictly foot soldiers, composed of heavily plated units such as knights or generals. It would be smooth sailing on the way to the fortress, since most of the arrows wouldn't even be able to pierce the thick armour the knights donned. The only problem was, yet again, the lack of vision inside. To be honest the darkness inside was perfect for a stealth assault, but the heavy armour of the knights would make a tremendous amount of noise, ruling the options of stealth and bringing knights to the table out completely. The Ylissean/ Feroxi alliance had no real dark mages to speak of, and the Shepherds didn't have them either (and that was rare, seeing as how the Shepherds were the most diverse group of units in the army), so they had no way to brave the spellslingers that were inside. Robin became frustrated, he jumped up and gave the chair he had been sitting on a nasty kick, sending it flying against one of the tent walls.

"…You okay?" Said Stahl while entering Robin's tent.

Robin looked up. "Oh, Stahl, hey."

"Chrom said we are scheduled to attack in one day. How fares the strategy?"

Robin looked at the cavalier.

"… It's a complete nightmare, Stahl. We have no idea how reliable these reports from traumatized foot soldiers are, and even if I use their statements, then that would mean that the enemy has no blind spots. I have been stuck here for hours trying to find a good way to approach this. I'm telling you now Chrom, there isn't any!"

Stahl patiently waited until Robin had come to the end of his little outburst and then simply patted Robin on the back.

"Robin, you look tired. Take a break, go for a walk. You'll cook up something, I'm certain of that."

Robin sighed. "You're right. I'll be right back." With that he exited his tent, leaving the horseman alone.

* * *

After a short hike Robin found a calm spring in the forest not far outside the base camp. It was a small clearing in the dense pack of evergreen trees, with the sun lighting up the water that came splashing down into the small pond from a waterfall. Robin put his sword aside and found a comfortable place atop one of the rocks near the pond. He yawned and observed the current making its way down the waterfall.

"I can't breach this. I have too little info to work with. However I approach this, people will die."

"… And that is bad why?"

Robin jumped up, quickly snatching his sword from his resting place. "Who are you? Show yourself!"

He frantically looked around, before finding the man that had spoken just a moment ago standing atop one of the rocks parallel to his'.

"State your business!" Gritted Robin.

The man grinned maliciously. He was wearing a hood which hid a part of his face, and was clad in a long black robe, though it was apparent that he had an extremely trained body.

"You cannot worry about causalities. They are a part of war. Inevitable. "

"I worry about what I choose to worry about, I didn't have to bury anyone yet, and I intend on keeping it that way." He said, not lowering his sword by an inch. The man opposing him took notice of this, and held his hands up. "I'm here to talk, not to fight." He said. Something told Robin that the man wasn't lying, so he sheathed his sword again, but still kept it in his right hand, ready to act if the man was going to try something funny.

"Ah, yes, I have heard about that. You are Robin, Tactician of the famed Shepherds, and I was told you have indeed not let anyone of your comrades die yet. Lucky that you are a strategist, because I happen to be one too, and I'm here to give you some advice."

Robin stared at the man. "… Speak."

"I believe that it is in your best interest to _drop_ the whole not-letting-anyone-die thing. It's holding you back, and the last thing you want to worry about as a tactician is non- important factors meddling with your judgment."

Robin laughed sourly. "Are you crazy? My allies will help me prevail when things get hairy. I am not betraying them for my own gain."

The man groaned, clearly annoyed. "What have they been learning you since that day. Imbeciles. Your "army" is failing to notice that the wheels of fate have already started rolling."

Robin blinked. "What..?"

He wanted to ask the mysterious man another question, but found that he had suddenly disappeared.

Robin looked around frantically, expecting an attack.

The attack didn't come. And Robin was left alone. He sheathed his sword and turned around when it suddenly hit him.

"…Magicians."

* * *

Morning had dawned upon the battlefield.

The Shepherds were all geared up for the battle. All the mounted and heavily units were ordered to remain stationary. Instead Robin had brought Ricken, Miriel, Chrom, Maribelle (who had used a second seal to change her class into a mage) and Gaius. They were backed up by the 21st company of Ylissean spell casters, which was composed of Ylisse 's best mages. Robin's approach was very simple. Once they had reached the opening, he would form four lines of assault, each led by a Shepherd who was apt in using magic, with Chrom leading them. On his mark the group would release a seemingly unending barrage of fire spells at the walls. One might ask himself why they would pick such a peculiar area to attack, but that was because Robin had figured out the catch to the fortress that previous day.

"Magic is the key to this battle." Was what he had told Chrom the night before. "I realized that the enemy must be using the dark tome "Mire". This terrifying Elder magic allows the user to cast a spell from a very long distance. Utilizing this, the enemy can position theirselves around the ceiling to hit us without being detected and staying out of reach from the Risen that they have set loose below. So how do we recuperate? Simple, we use the range ourselves to take out the few foes we have, and, once we have cleared out the room, allow our cavalry in and proceed to take the inside of the castle by storm."

Now was the time to put Robin's plan into motion. No attacks were launched from inside the fortress, no projectiles were fired by the Ylissean/ Feroxi league. The battlefield had fallen completely silent. It was raining slightly, and the battlefield was covered by a thick mist, adding to the already quite eerie atmosphere. Both forces knew the attack was coming. All that was left was for Robin to give the signal. Robin looked to his right, seeking Chrom 's approval. The Exalt gave him a reassuring nod, after which Robin raised his hand and let it down, marking the beginning of attack.

The group of assailants started to march on the castle, slowly picking up speed, walking, jogging, dashing and sprinting. Then they abruptly stopped at 500 meters from the castle, and the sky above them lit up with flaming projectiles. After the initial attack, which had taken the defenders by surprise, a magic wall was put up to block all incoming projectiles. Normally the attacks would be easily nullified, but with the mages on location weakening the barrier, many of the projectiles still found its way through. The archers atop the fortress didn't know where to shoot with the thick fog covering the battlefield, and thus the fortress was under wave and wave of launched attacks. This allowed Robin and the Shepherds to suddenly appear and take them enemy by surprise.

This part of the plan was crucial. As soon as the troop had found its' way inside they had to act quickly. In a matter of mere seconds five lines of soldiers were formed, shouting battle- cries.

Robin eyes lit up, he began forming a spell, and let out a terrifying scream. "First line, fire!"

"Yes Sir!" The first line of mages cast their spells and unleashed them in unison, firing of an array of deadly spell craft at the broad ceiling of the room. The spells hit and breached parts of the wall. Rubble fell to the ground, shattering at impact and making a loud noise. But the assault didn't stop yet.

"Second line, fire!"

"Yes Sir!"

The first line stepped back and rejoined behind the others . The second line under the command of Miriel moved up and continued the assault with their own spells, and moved back when they had fired them, charging for yet another spell. This process repeated itself with the other lines.

It worked. The spells hit the plegian spell casters heavily, and many came crushing down from the ceiling, unable to cast off their deadly mires. One might wonder why the Ylissean spells were able to hit the sorcerers who had to rely on a special long distance tome to hit their mark. This was because the Ylisseans were going for collateral damage. The composition of the tomes in the possession of the troop was key to this. Every tome was handpicked by Robin, who, with the help of Miriel 's research on the matter, had found the perfect combination of spells, which added on each other's strengths, extending their range, but lowering their accuracy. In the midst of the slaughter Gaius made his way to the sturdy oaken doors, and, utilizing his natural skill of lock picking, opened them in a jiffy. Prior to this Robin had shot up a flare, and from inside the fortress the sounds of the impending cavalry outside could be clearly heard. Robin broke up the lines and made every soldier attend his regular group. They quickly made way for the cavalry, which burst open the half opened door and quickly proceeded on the mob of Risen inside.

The battle had only just begun.

* * *

 **I really am displeased with myself for ending the chapter prematurely, but I am very busy at the moment, and this is probably the only thing I can get out in a week. Then again the chapter does fit the format of 1500+ words a chapter, so that's good, I guess.**

 **Anyways, until next time.**

 **Arms_Of_Sorrow**


	5. Gruelling Siege pt 2

Chaos. Utter and complete chaos.

Robin 's strategy had worked out well so far. The infiltration of the fortress had been successful without any real casualties to speak of, but this was only due to Robin's meticulous planning. And this planning was only made possible by what little information Robin had. And here in lay the problem for the next part of his plan.

Other than the knowledge that supposedly there would be a group of Risen residing inside the halls of the keep, Robin had even less to work with on the second stage of his plan. No general layout of the building or any base number of the undead.

But it was the only way.

A line of cavaliers and knights clashed with the horde. Robin was in the back line, spell slinging Thoron after Thoron into the fray. In his frenzy he recognized the oh so familiar feel of battle. The ballad of sounds that were the grunts and shouts of mortals, paired with the panicked neighs of their steeds, steel tearing through flesh both mortal and putrid Risen- like and the ever – ongoing wails of the horde. Right in front of Robin a cavalier failed to regain control over his agonized horse, and was thrown of its back. Seconds later he was engulfed in a mob of Risen and violently met his demise, kicking, screaming. Through the crack he left behind in the wall of Ylissean soldiers the threat arose of the Risen pouring in and breaking the line. Robin wasn't going to let that happen. He dropped the tome in front of him and bared his arms before stretching them out in front of him, whereas normally a mage or any spell caster in general using Thoron would gather a small amount of mana at their very fingertips, Robin violently pumped forth the mana from the tome, jerkily gathering it at his clenched fists. The sudden current of mana running through his veins put an extreme strain on his body. And since most of the time a verbal confirmation of the spell was needed to cast it, he had to swallow the pain. He clenched his teeth and filled his fists with mana to the very brim. "Thoron." He gritted. He gasped in relief as he unleashed the enormous gathering of mana at the horde of Risen. Rather than a controlled beam of lightening an immense scorching torch of flaming electricity blasted forward, so heavy in force that it crushed the tiles beneath it into the ground, leaving behind a path of destruction. "Disperse!" Shouted Robin, gathering his muscles to lend him lip service on more time before falling back in exhaustion. The knights did not even need his warning, they had already frantically found their way to safety after hearing the devastating spell soaring towards them, obliterating everything in its path. It was Robin 's second's ace up the sleeve. Once again Miriel 's unending curiosity had proved itself very useful to him. Her latest fascination (aside from the spell reinforcement they had used before) seemed to be the ancient way of spellcasting, where mages would use their blood to materialize mana in its rawest form. This resulted in a way more devastating and powerful attack. I was a shame the art was long lost to mankind. Yet Miriel 's ingenuity became clearly apparent once again when she linked her research to a tome she had read before once stating that all modern day magic stemmed from the Elder Magic- or Dark Magic in layman's terms- of old. Through countless hours of research with books borrowed from the Royal Library she had found out Plegian Dark mages still used a form of self- sacrifice in their incantations. After a lengthy training Robin had been able to use a primitive form of this ancient spellcasting (note: this didn't mean that he was able to use dark magic, as that would mean he had allowed the darkness inside his body in order to utilize it). However, this put a heavy taxation on his organs and he would be unable to combat for a while after using it, as he was demonstrating now. Robin 's limp body fell into the arms of Chrom, who had rushed to his aid. The tactician looked up. "Thanks Chrom." He met the Exalt 's wary eyes. "I'm fine, Chrom." The sound of the spell hitting the wall of flesh startled both of them. It didn't lose any speed or ferocity on initial impact, it ran through them with ease, blasting away their torso, leaving only their upper body to drop flat on the floor. The Thoron went through three rows of enemies before concluding it hit a squad of undead Generals class Risen. Their mass finally brought it to a halt, but it wasn't going to rear its head with just that. It made one final effort to combust, blasting away the helpless hunks of meat around it with a powerful shockwave and coursing the ranks of Risen, downing many a foe. The aftermath left behind a huge gap in the wall of enemies, and its tactical usage was not lost to Robin. However with Robin out of commission, Chrom decided to step up to the task. "Ylissean cavalry and spellcasters, form a line!" He barked.

"Yes sire!"

The cavalry had taken quite a pounding from the risen, and gaps were clearly visible in their ranks.

"Chrom, arrow head formation." Panted Robin. Chrom nodded and passed on the order to the troops. The arrowhead formation was meant to force its way into the gap left behind by the Thoron and crack it open row by row, as an added bonus the wounded could safely reside between the rows of soldiers, staying protected from the horde of undead. On Chrom 's signal the group moved forward with high speed, clashing once more with the mob. The ride of the Ylissean cavalry marched on, many fell prey to the weapons of their foes, but the group eventually made its way through them, and in the time that it took them Robin had regained his physique. They had done it and had reached a pair of broad stairs. But now came the aggravating part of Robin's plan, the run, they had to distance themselves from the group, but their forces had spread too thin, way too thin to protect the wounded.

"Damn it, damn it!" Cursed Robin. He had to think fast, or the mob would catch up with them and engulf them. He looked at Chrom, who returned his gaze with a desperate plea. "Time is running out Robin!" Robin looked at the group and at the fast approaching legion of Risen. "Damnit!"

There was only one possible decision, and it was all his to make. The grueling decision of sacrificing lives to preserve the lives of others. Earlier he felt nothing when encountering a cellar full of dead bodies, but the encounter with the mysterious man from before had convinced him, he wasn't going to let his comrades in arms die if he could prevent it. These men were among the brightest and loyalist among the Ylissean/ Feroxi army. Good soldiers, good men. Robin had made it his personal goal to get to know the men he would be personally commanding in the upcoming skirmish. He came to know of their struggle in the Ylissean military. To leave them to die now just to save his own neck was outright despicable. But no, it was not his life alone that he was fighting for, he had the other troops to think about. A moment of silence occurred, the men fell silent, leaving only the nervous neighs of the few horses and the stomping sounds of the approaching Risen to fill the room. Everyone was waiting for Robin to give the order. Chrom averted Robin's gaze, looking at the hilt of his falchion. Robin swallowed, a hint of tears forming in the corner of his eyes. He locked eyes with the wounded.

They returned his gaze with their own. Steadfast, battle ready, and reassuring. The captain of the 21st company, who had been hit in his torso and was covering a deep wound, stood up and spoke up.

"We are not going down without a fight."

Robin stood there, looking at each of the wounded soldiers, as if to confirm they had each accepted their fate. He found only determination in their eyes.

"Okay…"

The men smiled. "Finish what we started, Tactician."

Robin nodded. He switched to his steel sword, then signaled in silence to proceed. The group then made a bee- line for the upper level of the fortress, leaving the wounded to make their final stand against the horde and granting them a dignified end.

The remaining soldiers braced themselves, some lending a shoulder to others who were unable to stand upright. Remembering their training, the highest in rank, in this case the commander of the 21st unit of spellcasters, took control. Forming a formation would be useless in this state, so they just repositioned themselves from most able- bodied to least. The spells and javelins mowed away one row of assailants, but this simply prolonged the inevitable. The horde came upon them a moment later, totally drowning them in their numbers. They did not go down just like that though. They fought 'till their weapons blunted, punched till their fists bled, body blocked till their bodies had worn out , ferociously maintaining their defense, stalling the mob with all they had. This would be their final skirmish, and they would pin all their hopes on the tactician, their tactician.

The Shepherds and their troop forced open the door with brute force, sprinting inside. Only to find an empty throne room. Robin forced the door shut again, and was stunned by the deserted room.

"No, no this can't be happening!" He brought out. Outside he heard the noises of battle, further confirming his worst fears. In a flash he and the Shepherds had scaled the two stairs that led to the roof of the towers, completely surprising the few mages that were busy casting their mires. Robin jumped at two of them acting on instinct, diagonal slash, horizontal sweep, cross cut, next enemy, full swing, upward thrust, next enemy. One of the mages had noticed him and struggled to switch to his Nosferatu tome. Robin was merciless, somersaulting and using the force of gravity to practically split the man's body, from his head till deep near his crotch. Forcefully jerking his sword back he sensed an incoming Elwind from the mana pattern in the air and made a short roll over the tiles to allow it to hit the last enemy on the tower, who was knocked over the edge by the impact, plummeting to his death. Robin looked to his left, the second tower was also quickly seized by Chrom and the other Shepherds. Only after gathering courage he dared look to his right. The tower had a nice view on the battlefield, and now the mist had cleared up the camp was visible. Robin gasped.

The main camp was in complete disarray. There was fighting everywhere, with explosions occurring like wildfire. A huge force had invaded the Ylissean encampment in the time Robin and Chrom were inside the fortress. They had fallen into the Plegian 's trap.

Robin was joined by the remaining soldiers, who were just as perplexed by the sight as he was. One of them stood next to him, eyes wide spread, looking at the ritual that enveloped the battleground. It was painfully obvious what had happened to them.

"Shit. A fucking setup."

* * *

 **And that's it. I kinda threw this together here and there during this week. I am much more satisfied by how this chapter came out though.**

 **Plenty of references to other Fire Emblem games in this one :-)**

 **Might be a bit dark again, could even be could angsty- ish. But I just wanna go with a more mature look on Awakening.**

 **On an unrelated note. The first chapter on my Fantasy Life fanfic is out! Go check it out if you want to.**

 **Don't forget to drop a review or rating if you enjoyed reading.**

 **'Byee,**

 **Arms_of_Sorrow**

 **P.S I'm gonna clean up the previous chapters when I have time, take out some weird sentences and what- not**


	6. Battlefield Strategy

As he later recalled this was one of the rare times in Robin's life that he felt truly helpless. He had completely fallen in their trap, He wasn't normally one to approve of a plan without fail safes, yet here he stood, completely outthought by the opponent, trapped on the roof of an abandoned fortress crawling with Risen. He had no means of controlling this battle's outcome, he could only stand there and watch, cursing his inability to do anything. He was joined by Chrom and the other Shepherds, except for Gaius, who had suddenly disappeared. Probably taking another one of his "sugar breaks", as he liked to call it. Together with Chrom and the other troops Robin watched the battle unfold.

The Ylissean encampment was invaded by two battalions of Plegian origin, presumably the troops that were supposed to be stationed inside the keep, reinforced by a surprisingly big band of Grimleal, thereby definitely confirming their ties with the Mad King.

The initial wave of attackers was repelled by the wary temporary chief of defense Frederick, who had taken the liberty of doubling all the guards on duty around the perimeter, as was his custom. After the initial surprise the Ylisseans had quickly taken battle stations and quickly moved out in a wedge formation, following the pre- designated protocols. The frontline of the wedge was made up of fifty percent of the camps foot- soldiers, followed by a line of archers and other range units.

The centre of the formation was where the commanders resided, surrounded by bands of specialized units; mercenaries, cavaliers, myrmidons etc.

Lastly, the whole formation's rear was covered by the remaining foot soldiers

Where the Ylissean formation was tight and organized, the Plegian formation, if you could even call it a "formation", was chaotic and unorganized. They had the advantage in sheer numbers though. Both sides were staring each other down, the tension was very heavy.

"Robin!"

Robin's train of thought was broken by a familiar voice to his right. It was Sumia, leading (well, it wasn't like anyone had given her the actual permission) a group of wyvern riders. Robin looked at the copper – haired woman. "Sumia! What gives?"

"Frederick sent me to pick you up! Hop on!"

Robin smiled weakly. Of course Frederick had thought of this, he wasn't called Frederick the Wary for nothing. Robin was about to hop on Sumia 's steed when he saw the look on Chrom 's face, he chuckled and went to find someone else. Up in the air Robin seized the opportunity to get an even better look at the battlefield, whilst at the same time scouting for other potential enemy reinforcements. He saw them approach the center of the Ylissean formation, and took the little time he had left to steel his mind to the best of his ability. Once the touchdown occurred, Robin swiftly made his way to the command center of the formation, where he met Frederick. He was joined by Chrom as the Great Knight stepped down from his position. By studying the battlefield from an unique viewpoint Robin had had a way more in depth knowledge than any of the combatants on the field, which he planned to use in battle.

"Messenger!" He called.

"Yes sir!" A normal foot soldier came running up to him.

"I want you to pass this on to the troops."

Robin spent the next five minutes explaining his strategy, after which the messenger hurried to pass along the word to the rest of the army. After this the Ylisseans started shifting, and the enemy, apparently taking notice of Robins presence, also made its move.

A moment of silence, then a staggering amount of noise and roars, followed by the thundering sounds of galloping Ylissean cavalry. Robin watched his plan unfold as he saw the two battling forces clash. The storming Ylisseans' plated horses were met by a wall of spears, which was formed by the front row of the Plegian army. The first row of cavaliers got halted, but the second row of mounted troops quickly adapted to the situation, as commanded by Robin. Rather than storming in with a mixture of Paladins, Cavaliers and Great Knights, the Paladins and Cavaliers broke up and left the formation, rushing past the frontline and trying to outflank the enemy.

What was left were the heavily plated Great Knights, who smashed into the wall in a murderous rampage, breaking the long spears as if they were twigs and trampling their holders with their huge horses. The cavalry was meant to pave the path for the foot soldiers, and Robin had ordered them to break through as far as they could.

He knew that they wouldn't hold the advantage for long though, Plegia was widely renowned for its top notch dark mages, and their magic was only minutes away from tearing up the frontline. It was time to adapt. Robin gave the signal to fire of a flare, and after the troops saw the bright red light they dispersed. This gave the Plegians courage, thinking that they had routed the enemy. However their high morale was met with a hailstorm of arrows from the ranged troops, which had moved up in the cavalry's place. The Plegians had no choice but to sit out, and with the onslaught the wyvern riders had to reposition themselves behind the army. This was what Robin was waiting for, though. After recognizing the shift in the battlefield the commander of the cavalry circled around the entire enemy formation and engaged the wyvern units, causing disarray amongst the enemy ranks, who now had to fight on two sides.

This is when Robin realized something was off, and, after giving it a good thought, finally succumbed to what was maybe one of the most dangerous hunches in his life.

"Messenger!"

He waited in impatience as the soldier hurried to get to his caller.

"Yes Sir!"

"I want you to pass this along to all our troops, using flares and given orders. Pay attention to what I'm about to say, I need you to dictate this by the letter."

"Yes Sir!"

"I need you to spread out the following orders: "We are withdrawing eighty percent of our troops, leaving behind a composition of ten percent cavalry. The remaining ten percent will be filled by our Shepherd troop, led by me. The second in command will be tasked with leading our troops to an area he deems sufficient in both coming to our aid if it is needed or joining up with the Feroxi warriors. "

The messenger looked at him with disbelief. "Eighty percent of our troops, Sir?"

Robin returned the man's gaze with a stern look. "Just do it. Trust me. "

The messenger simply saluted. "Yes Sir!" And turned around to carry out his job.

"Oh! And one more thing! Come and lend me your ear."

The messenger did as he was told, and, after recognizing the importance of the act, proceeded once again to carry out his orders.

"Yes, Sir!"

Robin came down from the elevated position he had found to oversee the battlefield, he looked as he saw his plan unfolded right before his eyes, a feeling that always left him uncomfortable, as if he was controlling his troops like pawns on a chess board. He hurried to make it to the group of Shepherds that was gathering near the centre of the formation. There he met a dumbfounded Chrom. As soon as he met the Exalt he was riddled with questions.

Why did you break us up? We were winning! The enemy is right there, and we are heavily outnumbered now, they are going to pursue our fleeing troops and crush us! Robin!"

"Chrom!" Shouted Robin, losing his patience. The Exalt was taken aback by Robin suddenly raising his voice.

"Look, Chrom! Is the enemy pursuing them?"

The Exalt looked, and to his surprise the enemy was indeed not following the withdrawing Ylisseans.

"… Why?"

"They aren't looking to beat us, look at the number of Grimleal amongst the enemy ranks, I feel like this branch of the Plegian military is special. With that I mean that there is a high possibility that the commander of this fortress is in fact under the influence of the Grimleal."

"And this helps us how- Watch out!" Shouted Chrom, before suddenly tackling Robin to the ground, barely making the arrow that was meant to take Robin's head miss.

"Which means that they are out for me!" Said Robin, jumping back on his feet and drawing his sword. He extended his arm to help Chrom up.

"Let's do this! Shepherds, battle stations! The enemy is upon us!"

He wasn't lying. The overwhelming Plegian mass was only minutes away from overwhelming them. He shot off a flare to alert the cavalry, who had crippled the enemy wyvern brigade with themselves having to deal with meager losses themselves. They attacked the Plegian force in the back, and Robin ordered the ranged Shepherds to unleash an array of projectiles. This confused the enemy, and Robin took advantage of this. "Frederick, Sully, Stahl, Chrom, Vaike, essentially every melee unit! We storm the enemy lines! Remaining Shepherds support us!"

And that was how it unfolded. The combined act of the cavalry and fierce Shepherds was a killing one.

With an enraged Chrom to his left and a stern Frederick atop his galloping horse to his right, Robin stormed the frontlines, it all felt so surreal. The Plegians, at first occupied with the Ylissean cavalry was shocked to see the Shepherds so close to their formation, they noticed too late. The dark mages were too close to their comrades to be able to cast spells, and were slaughtered one by one.

Robin approached the line of plegian. He parried the violent swing his foe made in desperation by ducking, shot forward on his legs and drove his sword up the man's stomach, cleaving to the right to remove his sword. He swept the man aside and leapt off in the air, flat- out punching his next opponent in the face. As soon as his feet touched the ground he followed up with another devastating punch, breaking his foes nose. It sent the man flying backwards He desperately tried to recuperate but Robin was merciless and sliced his neck with a swift slash. Kicking over the body Robin was approached by a Knight class soldier, which used the length of his iron lance to keep Robin at bay. The thought of switching to his tome crossed Robins mind, but he felt his parched mana ducts and decided to outthink his opponent. He began moving in a peculiar way, seemingly getting along with some kind of beat. He dodged every attack his opponent launched, and, when the time was right. Shot forward in a flash, the knight acted on reflex and tried to sweep him away with his weapon, but right before reaching him Robin whipped up some dust from the ground with the tip of his blade, blind sighting the Plegian, who met his fate with Robin pushing his sword through the holes cut out for the knight to see.

Yanking back his weapon Robin realized he had broken through the line of melee fighters, what was left were the mages in front of him, recognizing that they were unable to do _anything_ , Robin threw himself at the horde, furthering his kill count with significant amounts, he lunged, lopped, kicked and slashed. It all felt surreal. Like he was slaughtering sheep. He soon met the cavalry, or what was left of it, and continued his slaughter. Did half an hour pass? Did one full hour pass? Robin was unclear. He only knew the sun was dawning by the time the skirmish had ended. The cavalry had surprisingly survived most of the onslaught, and was standing tall atop their horses. Robin stood on a pile of dead bodies, covered in guts and blood splattered everywhere on his clothes. His sword was drenched in blood, he was dripping in sweat and covered in several smaller wounds. He struggled to make it down the pile of corpses he had amounted, and quickly found Chrom, being tended to by his sister. The Exalt looked at him with exhaustion.

"I do admit that was easier than expected, but why Robin?"

"Did they seem like they were acting according to a set strategy Chrom?"

The Exalt thought for a bit. "No… What of it?"

"This could only mean one thing, they had no tactician nor a commander present. Why would he not be present at a battle regarding his very own fortress?" Chrom 's eyes widened. "He planned to ambush us."

"Exactly." Said Robin.

Chrom shot up. "But where are they? They could be upon us any second now!"

"Hey! Don't move yet! Your cuts aren't done healing yet!" Said Lissa, but Chrom didn't pay attention to her.

"Now, now calm down, Chrom, I have taken the proper precautions for that. Hear that sound?"

Robin pointed at a place behind the forest south of their positions, what was heard were the sounds of battle. This is when Chrom realized.

"… The rest of our army."

"That's it, were we to remain as we were hours ago, then we would've been tricked yet again, and slaughtered mercilessly. We have to go, see, who emerged victorious. I think that it's only fair it was us after today."

"Yes, quite"

* * *

The battlefield was littered with corpses, both Ylissean and Plegian alike.

"Gods, what happened." Said Robin. He spotted a group of soldiers, Ylissean.

"Ylisseans! Status report!" Shouted Robin, the group of soldiers approached him.

"We have eradicated the enemy, sir, but… the losses…" The mercenary pointed at the field.

"I see, are you all that's left?" Asked Robin.

"No sir, we were left here to inform you of the battle's outcome. From what it seems, half of us have been killed in this conflict today."

"Which leaves us at fifty- five percent combat power, gods… How?"

"The enemy moved in a very strange pattern sir. And we were unknown with so many of the weapons and tomes they used sir, it- " tears began forming in the man's' eyes.

"It was hell, sir."

Robin nodded. "Thank you for your report, go join the cavalry now."

"Yes sir!" With that, they left Robin and Chrom.  
The two comrades looked at the battlefield.

"Chrom…"

"Yes, Robin?"

"I'm sorry."

Chrom looked at him with sadness. "What do you mean, you're sorry?"

"I knew this were to happen, but I had to split us up. The target was me, so I couldn't leave the Shepherds, they would've simply followed me, but that meant I had to send these men out to attack an enemy under the control of a extremely dangerous tactician, I'm surprised they weren't eradicated. It was inhumane, but-" Tears were streaming down Robins face, he looked Chrom in the eyes.

"But it was the only way Chrom."

Chrom was dumbfounded, he didn't know what to do. Indeed, this was the most efficient way to deal with the situation, but the guilt of sending countless soldiers into an unknown fray, essentially as meat bags to catch the impending attack, he knew it would prove too much for his comrade. He wanted to comfort Robin, but the Tactician evaded him.

"Listen, Chrom, regarding the families of the men here.. I will take care of that. Just, just leave me alone for a while."

The Exalt could only nod, he walked a bit more uphill to catch one more glimpse from the fortress.

"We have won…"

* * *

 **Aaand that's it. Quite the long chapter, this one, but that only means I can finally resume my writing again.**

 **Wanted to expand on Robin's fears a bit more, but , happier times are coming! At least, in a few chapters.**

 **Anyways, cya next chapter**

 **Arms_of_Sorrow**


	7. Nighttime Conversations

The moon had set, and all the noise in the Shepherd encampment had died down. Viewing the camp from a bird's view would reveal only a few small campfires which hadn't been put out and the lights of the torches the watchmen were holding on their patrol. Everyone in encampment had gone to sleep for the day and all the lights in the tents had already been dimmed.

All lights but one.

The Ylissean/ Feroxi alliance had marched upon the court of the Mad King. Outside of the hellish halls of that palace was the entire 2nd and 3rd Plegian army, assisted by the 1st invasion force previously sent out to conquer Ylisse. The armies were due to collide in the nearby future, and knowing this every soldier was resting up for the big final clash. Robin, however, spent hour after hour devising the perfect strategy to safely retrieve Emmerynn and bring the war to a swift conclusion. It cost him precious hours of sleep.

It had been one full week after the massacre that was the grueling siege of the main Plegian fortresses and Robin was still… Writing… Writing letters for the deceased. He felt it was his responsibility, as he held himself accountable for every single death that day. Now normally deaths were none of his concern, if the army had enough fighting force he had no reason to be worried, but that fateful day back then was different. He completely went cold. Sending soldiers out as meat bags and leaving behind injured men just to save the battle was, in his eyes, inhumane. It scared him that there was such a cold side to his tact. This paired with the fact he had no recollection of the past scared him even more. He could've been a psychopathic murderer for all he knew, or, judging by his clothing, a Plegian sleeper agent. He had talked to Chrom about this, even going so far as to suggest a back- up plan to eliminate him when he defected (not that the Exalt ever would allow such a thing).

But, back to the present night at that time. Robin was alone in his tent, writing what was probably his two-thousand-and twenty-ninth letter to the home front. He had filled the previous hours with the same occupation and decided it was time for a pause. He put down his writing feather, relaxed his tense muscles with a lazy stretch and stood up from his desk. Leaving on the lights in his tent, he strapped on his sword (it had never hurt anyone to be cautious) and left his abode with a slow pace, breathing in the icy evening air. His tent was situated near the outskirts of the encampment, and thus he could reach a quiet place in one minute. Without putting in too much effort he found a small creek running through there, which was actually quite rare, since he was currently campaigning in the scorching desert. He figured the creek must had been originating from the mountains further up and sat down to chug down some of the refreshing water. Cupping the stream with his hands, he started to bring it to his mouth when he heard approaching footsteps in the sand further away from him. Without looking at the person appearing him he unsheathed his sword up till the hilt with by letting it slide out of its sheath and halting it with his thumb.

"Not a footstep closer."

He heard the person come to a stop at four meters in front of him, and stood up in order to widen the distance between them. Opposite to him was a figure clad in a robe, his features hidden by the comforting darkness the night brought, virtually unidentifiable for a normal person, yet Robin immediately recognized the stranger as the man who had been talking to him the day before he stormed that hellish fortress.

Robin fully drew his sword and shifted into his combat stance, a peculiar mix of things he had picked up from Chrom 's technique, the duels he had shared with Lon'qu and the morning drills he had to endure from Frederick. The man seemed amused, his mouth forming a wide grin reflecting the moonlight.

"Heh, are you sure you want to fight me, boy?"

The man opened his robe by an inch, revealing a shimmering broad axe at his side. Going on what little else this action showed- a leather belt, part of a frock made out of cowhide and a brace- like strap that ran down to the man's frock- Robin judged the man to be a certain match for the berserker class.

"Done seizing me up, kid?"

Robin frowned. "Just keep talking."

He started to inch towards his opponent, who hadn't made a move since the Tactician drew his weapon apart from showing his. At first Robin was under the impression the man simply had a defensive style of fighting or was just under the impression that the Ylissean Strategist was way below his level.

Deeming that the man was probably waiting for him to make the first move Robin shot forward from his position, raising his sword with the intent of impaling the his opponent chest in one violent push. However, two meters from away from executing said action the man finally moved, simply setting on step in Robin's direction. Robin abruptly halted in horror. The area around him was drenched in unholy mana, it made Robin's movements sluggish and slowed him significantly. He felt a sudden outburst of fatigue spread from his feet to the rest of his body. He was barely holding his sword and found it hard to move his muscles.

"What.. are you?" He panted.

"Hex, bind*, anathema. They decrease enemy movement through allowing the darkness in ones soul to affect their mana outflow and regulating said mana it into the ground . What that means is you have just stepped into a zone which will spell your demise."

Robin gritted. "Damn it."

He struggled to maintain the grip on his weapon and attempted to move outside the man's radius to break free of his trap, but the figure just kept following him in a grim silence, easily keeping up with Robin, even though the latter one was doing his utmost best to run away. After around five minutes of this Robin finally gave up and sheathed his sword. Immediately the outflow of corrupted mana stopped, leaving Robin to gasp in expiration.

"Are you done playing?"

Robin looked at the man with a hateful gaze. "Why are you here?"

"To talk."

Robin scoffed. "Just talk?" He said crossly while sitting down on a pair of rocks. "Alright. Speak."

The man remained standing. "Are you still thinking about _that_ siege?"

A dangerous flare lit up in Robin's eyes. "Shut up, miscreant."

The man grinned maliciously. "Oh, that upsets you doesn't it? Pathetic. An able tactician doesn't run away from his decisions. He evaluates them and moves on, taking those decisions along."

Robin grunted. "Very perceiving, I'm sure. Now kindly piss off?"

The man seemed displeased by that. "Now listen here, kid. The decisions you made there were the correct ones. You were forced into a position where you had very little to work with."

Robin blinked. "That's surprisingly insightful."

"You see, boy. You might not agree with those methods you used back then, but they are the most efficient. You have a war to win. There is no use in worrying about every casualty, they are measly soldiers after all."

Robin stood up. "And there you go again with your idiotic ideology. I don't need the advice of a complete stranger, thanks. You-"

Robin didn't finish his sentence. The man had disappeared yet again, leaving only the tainted, blackened sand and the silence of the night. Robin started to walk towards his tent again, preparing for the inevitable nightmare and the morning that would hit him harder than a Pegasus ' kick.

* * *

Arriving back at his tent Robin expected to find it in the same state that he had left it. However he was shocked to find it into a complete state of disarray. His letters were scattered everywhere, as were his maps and writing tools. His finished letters were all gathered on one big pile in the middle of his tent, and Robin soon noticed one perky pluck of hair behind said pile.

He sighed deeply.

"Lissa…"

"OH! Robin!" Lissa shot up in confusion and almost tripped on one of the letters on the floor. "This isn't what it looks like, I swear! I was just… Err…"

Robin rested his head in his cupped hands and just stood there for three straight minutes.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"Hmph!" Said Lissa, walking towards him and holding up one of his letters Robin had written.

"I was looking at this! Is this why you always look so hammered in the mornings, well?"

Robin stepped back, surprised by the sudden outburst from Lissa. He quickly recovered though.

"Well it has to be done Lissa, and I must be the one to do it."

The hot- tempered princess frowned at him. "It's way too late to be doing those things, Robin!"

Robin returned her frown with a stern gaze. "And that drove you to make a mess in my tent?"

"Well.. No.. But that's beside the point! You shouldn't wear yourself out like this! It's-"

Robin interrupted her in the midst of her sentence. "Look, Lissa, this is something I chose to do. No, something I _need_ to do. Just, just leave me alone for a while."

This angered Lissa. "No! I… I'm just! Gods, you're impossible! Don't you see I'm trying to look out for you here?"

Robin looked at her, and remained silent.

Lissa groaned. "You know, Robin, you might be our tactician, but you don't have the slightest clue on human emotion!"

This upset Robin quite a lot. Brimming with anger he pointed at the entrance of his tent. "Out."

"Gods! You're so ignorant! Fin, get out of my way!" shouted Lissa.

She pushed him aside and walked out of the tent angered, though after reaching it she turned around on more time at the entrance and speaking at a lower tone.

"You know, Robin, you don't need to shut yourself in with your problems. We are there… I am there.. And if I won't do, please find someone who will… Goodnight."

With that she left, and Robin stood alone at the tents' entrance.

"Damnit."

He looked bck at the mess in his room, then at Lissa's dissapearing figure. It was time to trust someone. He closed his tents entrance and chased after the princess.

"Lissa, wait!"

* * *

 **Aaand that was it for this chapter!**

 **Not much to report today, I'm affraid. Still planning on cleaning up all the chapters.**

 **Whatever, please R &R if you liked the story, I'd love to hear your feedback**

 **Byeee,**

 **Arms_Of_Sorrow**


	8. Skirmish on the Mad King's doorstep

'Trusting someone with his issues.' Heh. Robin scoffed at the thought. He was having one of his more intense gloomy moods. Was that really what went through his head that day? Hah, pathetic. Robin laughed at the fact. He had chased after Lissa, who was delighted and relieved that he was willing to talk with her. What followed were thirty minutes of shallow talk. Only so slightly touching on his fear for his past. It was Lissa who did most of the talking anyway. In the end the conversations' purpose boiled down to killing time and postponing his inevitable nightmare-to-come for that night. Still, the princess seemed to be content with just that, and Robin wasn't going to burst her little bubble.

Today was judgment day. The day Robin had feared for weeks. Today was day destined to be the decisive clash between the Plegian forces and the Ylissean/ Feroxi alliance. Robin had spent weeks on his strategy, which had to include a way to retrieve Emmerynn and escort her with an escape route that the Shepherds somehow had to create in the endless wall of Plegians. Luckily Gangrel was stupid enough to give away the exact location of Emmerynn's execution. _That_ at least negated another one of Robin's worries. However, this did not take away any of the extreme stress Robin was experiencing, as the head strategist of the Ylissean army (a position Chrom 's influence as the Exalt- to- be landed him) this whole operation was as good as his battle plan.

The previous night had granted Robin with a total of one hour and fifteen minutes of sleep. Luckily Miriel had provided him with special pills of her own making that kept him on his toes despite his lack of a good nights' rest. He walked out his tent as one of the firsts in the entire encampment. In his opinion a good tactician always had to arrive first on the battlefield. He made sure to check if he was equipped properly (it wouldn't be the first time in history that a combating force tried to eliminate the enemy commander or strategist pre- battle) and proceeded to hike towards the field of conflict.

The Ylissean/ Feroxi monster encampment was stationed a significant amount from Gangrel 's mega fort, which was protecting the palace in its centre. Outside the walls of the Mad Kings keep were his troops, in numbers quite evenly matched with the Ylisseans, even though they had taken a whopping so far. When Robin set foot on the battlefield he noticed he wasn't the first one to arrive. A man, clad in a concealing robe stood atop a hill around 500 meters from Robin's position. Robin decided to walk up to the man, who apparently hadn't disappeared after their exchange from the previous night. When Robin came up to the man the latter slowly turned around, facing the tactician with a slight smirk on his face.

"You're here early. Good."

Robin stared at the man with curiosity and wariness. "What are you still doing on our side of the field? Get to your own army already."

The look on his adversaries face froze.

"I'm not here to fight, boy. I don't belong to either of your little armies. Just consider me as… A silent observer. Nothing else."

Robin scoffed. "I don't buy it. You're up to something. I know it."

The man looked amused and grinned ominously. "Heh, maybe I am. Hard to say."

He turned around to walk away, thereby ending the small exchange. Around halfway downhill he unexpectedly turned around though, saying one last thing before he went on his way.

"Oh, and boy, don't think you've won so easily. Your foe is… tenacious, to say the least."

Robin blinked in confusion. "…What?"

"Let's just say they have more tricks up their sleeve than you might think."

With that, the stranger left Robin, who was experiencing a growing headache from the stress of overseeing the impending battle. The tactician looked at the field and then at the encampment.

"Right, let's do this."

* * *

It was noon, and the blood-red sun set the stage for a blood bath of proportion. The Ylissean/ Feroxi armies had gone with a global "patch-work" formation, meaning that, apart from the front line, that consisted of foot soldiers wielding pikes, the different battalions were mixed in tight square formations. The Plegians opposite to them had surprisingly copied most of their formation, with the only differences being that their front line consisted of two rows, the first with soldiers and the second with dark mages, and that the entire formations back was covered by wyvern riders. As was with any big battle, a moment of silence occurred, which lasted for multiple minutes. It were the last minutes before the hell that was about to burst loose, the calm before the imminent storm. Soldiers everywhere, steeling their minds, praying to their god, thinking about their home.

And then it begun.

The two front rows of both sides moved up whilst making as much noise as possible. First slowly increasing the distance between them and their army. Robin had submerged the Shepherds into the ranks of the army as a battalion, whereas he normally would prefer to keep them out the direct frontlines, it was crucial this time that the Shepherds would reach the fortress the fastest. Suddenly the two forces broke out into a crazed charge, with Robin up in the very front, running, screaming.

The tactician saw himself and the other forces approaching each other at a very quick rate. Suddenly realizing that most casualties were to fall on the frontlines during the collision of the forces, Robin lowered speed and moved back as the two monstrous bulks of soldiers met in a heavy clash. Looking back he saw Chrom leading the Shepherds further back in the formation. Drawing his sword and locking his arms in a strike- ready position Robin charged the place of conflict. While running he found an open spot where a knight was killed with a swift blow from an axe. His initial thought was to fill the hole as quickly as possible, but he wisely held back as a Plegian wave of spells hit the frontlines with devastating power, followed by a post-impact hailstorm of arrows as the Ylissean answer. After this he made his way into the fray with a vertical swing with his sword, immediately upping his kill –count by one. He parried the blow of an incoming pike, which would've proved extremely difficult (swords had a disadvantage to spears in the weapon triangle after all) if the attacker wasn't extremely terrified of the battle. The boy was practically pissing himself. Robin however had no time to be merciless. He hit the pike into the ground with the flat side of his blade and then dashed forward, piercing his foe's throat. The boy made a gurgling sound as he fell on his knees, and Robin finished him off with a cleave that split his head in two from the top. Another attacker appeared. Robin, judging that there was no time to remove his sword from its resting place, he used the boys corpse as a meat shield to catch the pike of the Plegian. The long spear hit and pierced the boys dead body, getting stuck in his ribcage. The attacker panicked as he couldn't remove his weapon, and Robin used the short time window of confusion to jump of the attackers body and make a 180 spin to his adversary, using the drag to launch a killing blow which hacked into the face of the soldier, partly slicing one eye and breaking his front teeth. The man desperately tried to recuperate but once again Robin showed no quarter. He punched the broken nose into his head, thereby piercing the brain in a creative but very twisted method of killing. He saw two enemies running towards him next. He decided the best course of action was deception. He circled around them and took out his Thoron tome, his adversaries accelerated in speed, and _right_ when they were within striking range he shot out some mana from his finger tips, creating a short spark and leaving his foes under the impression they were about to take a Thoron head on. They prematurely dodged in terror and that was exactly the outcome Robin had envisioned. He made a low sweep with his sword, ending the first Plegian which had rolled out of the way and then kicked over the other one who was about to stand up fully, killing him with hacking away at his abdomen. After removing his weapon from the corpse with force, he decided it was time for him to hand over the reins to Basilio and Khan Flavia. He retreated, opening a path by dismembering a Plegians leg from his body from the back (better to be cowardly to be dead). The soldier lost her balance and fell to the ground, only to be pierced on the lance of the General that was opposing her. Robin gave his ally a small nod before making his way out of the front lines, retreating further to find Chrom and the other shepherds in the very left wing of the army, which was pushed up way further than the rest of the army to the walls of the castle. Robin made a quick detour to a battalion of archers before rejoining his comrades, ordering the ranged units to focus on the wyvern riders that apparently were going to arrive in five minutes. The archers did as they were told, and their unexpected positioning took the wyvern riders by complete, resulting in their hasty retreat with heavy losses.

Chrom was taking on three lesser soldiers at once, his tremendous power clearly showing with each heave. He was keeping them at bay, even wounding them occasionally. Looking to his back he met eyes with Sully, who was in the midst of trampling a poor fellow with her horse. Without any spoken word she understood his intent, and proceeded to act according to their visionary plan. Chrom took a deep breath for a second and then made a strike that threw up dust with the wind pressure it amounted from the sheer force with which it was made. The act blind sighted two of his foes, and he separated one of them with a strong speed, jabbing at him with his falchion. At the same time Sully barged in and took care of the other two, beheading one and knocking the other over, trampling him with her horse. The dust settled and the two emerged victorious.

"Chrom!" Robin joined the Exalt and the other Shepherds. Chrom felt relieved to see Robin alive and well. "How fares the battle on the other places?"

"We are doing good so far! We-" Robin broke off his sentence to blast away a Plegian knight who was trying to sneak up on the couple.

"We are pushing the Plegians back." The lack of strategy in this skirmish was astounding, the Feroxi commanders, bent more on overpowering their enemies with sheer force against the plegian commanders, who had no care for what happened to their troops, just sending them out there to die for them.

"It's almost time, Chrom!" Shouted Robin. The Exalt nodded and signaled the Shepherds to steady themselves. Robin then paired up with Sumia so she could bring him around the battlefield quicker. He spent around a quarter of an hour to pick up a several spellcasting squads, he then positioned them near the Shepherds. Then he shot of a flare, signaling the time for change on the battlefield had come. Moments after his signal every Ylissean/ Feroxi unit found cover, and sky filled up with projectiles. The action blocked out the sun, and created a ominous shade for five seconds until the impact.

When the projectiles hit, there was complete chaos amongst the Plegian ranks. While their troop number was still impressive, the high morale from the Ylisseans combined with the fierce Feroxi bloodlust pushed them back up to the gates of Gangrel 's keep. This was all that Robin could hope for. He ordered the spellcasters to blast a hole in the wall amidst all the confusion and snuck in with the rest of the Shepherds. He knew that there would still be guards stationed in the walls, but the bulk of the Plegian units were outside fighting the Ylissean/ Feroxi army. Plus the Shepherds were skilled enough to deal with whatever was inside, especially with Robin leading them.

Robin first supervised the rest of the Shepherds going through the hole in the wall. Chrom was the last to go before him.

"Let's do this, Robin." The Exalt extended an arm.

"Yeah. Let's go." Robin took his comrades arm and was the last to disappear through the opening.

"Alright, we're in."

* * *

 **Alright, that's where I'm stopping for today. People who have played the game probably know what's coming next... Oh yeah, that.**

 **So that's why I'm splitting it up again. I'd like to devote an entire chapter to what's about to happen and the emotions that will break loose.**

 **The Plegian arc will end in about two more chapters, so after that I'll have a bit more creative liberty (hint: outrealm) before moving on with the Valmese war.**

 **That's it, thank you so much for reading! Don't forget to leave behind a review if you enjoyed, or if you didn't , I'd love to hear any positive or negative feedback (but keep it civilized, okay? ^^)**

 **Till the next time,**

 **Arms_of_Sorrow**


	9. Through the Breach

Infiltrating the fortress was easier than he originally had thought. Robin had expected to at least find one more fortress protecting the Mad King's Court, yet he had discovered none. Sure, the Shepherds had met some Plegian troops along the way, but those had been dealt with quickly. The band was now fast approaching Gangrel 's courtyard. Robin focused and drew out a mental map of the area. There! Emmerynn was put on a giant skull, which ominously loomed over the courtyard. The courtyard itself was protected by a high wall of medium sized thickness.

The Shepherds were currently situated to the top left corner of Robin's little map. Further down the sandy road were a set of hills, followed by two small structures, probably troop garrisons. As of now, the Shepherds weren't noticed yet, but Robin realized that it wouldn't take long before someone would take a gander in their direction. They had to move fast.

"Shepherds, round up!" He ordered.

"This is it! If we pull this off, the entire campaign will have found its purpose. It won't be long before we are noticed by a random guard, so we have to move fast. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Okay, I will personally give you orders this battle, and I will position you as follows:"

The tactician spend the next five minutes positioning his units. The sands made it difficult for mounted units (not including flying steeds) to move around, so he decided to make them guard the perimeter, seeing as they would only slow down the others advance. Apart from that he had no specific favorites in this battle. Every unit counted, and so he only put him and Chrom up in front so they could lead their troops into battle. As Robin had predicted, it didn't take long before one of the guardsmen spotted the group of soldiers proceeding on the courtyard. In the distance the gongs of war rang, and soon every guarding soldier was on the battlefield, defending their castle.

"Shepherds, let's move!" Shouted Robin. Together with his comrades he broke out into a charge on one of the hills. Chrom, Gaius, and himself were the fastest ones to reach the first hill. Not decelerating in speed, he tapped Chrom 's back, making him aware of the possible ambush that lay ahead. He did the same with Gaius, and then the three acted to a pre-designated plan. Chrom rushed ahead at top speed, invoking the wrath of the Plegian archers that had hidden themselves in the scenery. Robin spotted two groups of archers, one situated near the road, another higher up, at the very top of the hill. He looked at Gaius, who responded with a thumbs up. The next moment went by very fast. Chrom jumped back in a split- second, barely avoiding two barrages of arrows shot in his direction. His ambushers were about to nock another set of arrows when Gaius suddenly popped up in front of the lower ones. Moving swiftly he shot through the squad, slicing through half of them. The archers situated on top of the hill were shocked to see their comrades be cut down, they were in disarray and their indecision stalled them for a mere three seconds. Three seconds they didn't have. An Arcfire hit their position and promptly killed all of them in a blazing fire, sending one of them flying down. The remaining strugglers were cut down by Chrom, and as the rest of the Shepherds caught up to them the three Ylisseans sped up again.

The Ylisseans soon met the Plegian forces outside the garrisons. "Just defeat them! no time to conquer the troop garrisons!" Shouted Robin. He moved back from the frontline to hand a vulnerary to Miriel, who had been hit pretty badly by a broad axe earlier.

"How are you holding up?" Asked Robin.

"After consuming this refresher my health will be adequate enough to resume partaking in our parley, you have my gratitude." Said Miriel, chugging down the bitter nourishment in three short sips.

"Alright." Robin was about to rejoin the melee units in their fight when he spotted a lone figure in the distance taking on multiple foes by herself. The woman had a surprisingly good physique, and was wielding her killer axe with great finesse. But, she was surrounded by four mercenaries and they were not giving her time to do anything but defend against their strikes.

"Chrom!" Shouted Robin in the hopes of getting the Exalt to listen, who quickly gave the tactician his attention. He swept away the slash from his opponent and quickly fell back, leaving Panne in beast form to fill the gap. The Taguel made quick work of her foe, boosting herself in the air from her hind legs and coming down on her foe with great tenacity. The brute strength of her paw alone was enough to cave in the guards face.

"Make it snappy Robin!" Gritted Chrom, spotting more enemy reinforcements.

"That woman, over there, he seems to be in trouble!" Robin pointed at the War Cleric, still somehow managing against four foes. She shove off one of the mercenaries striking at her in a crouched position, but unfortunately suffered a blow from another who had attacked at the same time. Still, she had done good by dealing with the heaviest attack. However, this was only prolonging her life by a few minutes at best, and Robin knew that he had to act quickly to ensure her survival.

He left his spot in the backline and ran to her position, followed closely by Chrom. When they arrived the woman had surprisingly dispatched of one of her assailants, the grotesque cleave in his body showing that he was done in by a critical hit from her killer axe. Crimson red blood dripped from her axe and this combined with her bewildered eyes and her heavily breathing form gave her a feral look, almost as menacing as Panne when she was in beast-form, towering above you. Chrom threw himself on the mercenaries, maintaining a steady pace in his attacks. Robin left the fighting to the Exalt and the unknown woman and directed his attention to the Shepherds again. Confirming the two were still managing without him he circled back to his units and took over the reins again from Frederick.

For this battle Robin had not brought _all_ of the Shepherds , some were still out scouting the perimeter and making sure he had news of reinforcements as soon as possible. Plus he also appointed a few of them to keep watch over the special troops he had brought as part of his scheme.

Choosing to storm the garrisons after all (but not planning to occupy them for long) Robin ordered the melee units to move up, setting out a path for each of them. Pitting them out against foes with inferior weapons. Making them fight battles that proved favorable for the Shepherds. However, even though the Ylisseans had the advantage weapon- wise the Plegians were not going down so easily.

These troops were stationed very close near the kings court. They were some of the finest soldiers Plegia had to offer. The Shepherds' advance was halted just further away from the garrisons. Recognizing that Lon'qu was hurt badly and made Libra (the woman they had recruited after Chrom had a short talk with her) take his place. Making him recharge at one of the garrisons, Robin recognized that further stalling would only allow the Shepherds be outflanked by enemy reinforcements. He scanned the battlefield for a way to tip the scales. He then spotted something, or something someone that would be highly useful in attaining that goal. Another woman, clad like a dark mage. She was quite voluptuous, had long black hair and a pale hide, something peculiar amongst the usually sun- tanned Plegians. Robin decided to take a shot in the dark and assume she was a possible deviant.

"Chrom! Go talk to that woman! She might be willing to aid our cause. Other Shepherds, prepare for a charge!" He himself decided to break away from the group to aid Chrom. But for that he had to overcome his foe. He was facing a dark mage, equipped with a Nosferatu tome. Dark magic had the natural advantage against elemental magic he had to use his sword. However, pitting a melee unit against a ranged unit was a tad unfair, and so Robin decided to try to overcome his opponent with sheer power alone. He glanced back at Lissa, who was currently aiding Frederick. He jumped back from a Nosferatu opening up above him and signaled her for one, and only one salve of healing magic. He then widened the distance between him and his foe and took out something very peculiar. It was an odd object, multiple golden rings surrounding a red orb which gave of a shimmering glow full of mana.

"Master Seal…" Said Robin. He closed his eyes, then threw it up in the air, arms widespread. It descended with a slow pace, showering the Tactician in a golden light, completely enveloping his body in it angelic glow. Robin roared, and the ritual ended with a bright flash, stunning the dark mage. The ritual had whipped up sand and this revealed Robin. What came out of the sandstorm was a changed Robin. He was clad in different armour and clearly powered up by something. Of course this action let Robin open to attack, but the next attack was covered by the one heal he ordered Lissa to give to him.

Robin felt his renewed body brimming with power, and he then proceeded dash at the mage with great speeds, not giving the man time to react. He closed the last few meters with a short jump, readying his arms for the blow that would finish his opponent. He landed on his right leg, and used that to pivot his body into a devastating slash, almost cleaving the dark mage in half. He had cleared a path, and quickly ran through the gap before it was filled up so he could catch up with Chrom.

He saw the Exalt talking with the black- haired woman and, as he expected, the woman seemed to turn against her former allies. However, these two were now completely opened to enemy attacks. He managed to join them and saw the Plegians encircling them slowly. This is when he took out a small whistle. Gathering the air in his lungs, he blew it as hard as he could. The shrieking sound waved over the battlefield, and after that the Shepherds suddenly charged towards their ruler, abandoning any fight they were fighting. The charge surprised the Plegians, but the hardened veterans quickly adopted and fell into a defensive formation, giving up the Exalt and his allies.

Robin, along with Chrom and the dark mage circled back to their Shepherds. Robin had succeeded into proceeding on the courtyard, however, they had only moved the skirmish to another part of the battlefield. They now had to deal with the Plegians on two sides, and that was not all, on the horizon Robin spotted the worst thing he could've spotted: enemy wyvern reinforcements. He had to do something else to tip the scales in his favor again.

Luckily, Robin had an ace up his sleeve.

From his pockets he took out a lot more of seals like the one he had used before and handed them out to the other Shepherds. What happened next was a spectacle to behold. Light rained down from everywhere, and a repeat of the ritual occurred, but this down on a far greater scale. Out came a renewed group of Shepherds, permanently buffing their capabilities. With their renewed power and Robin's direct command they overcame their foes, killing them off quickly. It was part for stage three of Robin's plan. He split himself, Chrom, Lissa and Frederick off from the company and sent the rest out to meet the enemy wyvern troop.

He looked at the open gate.

Inside the court was the enemy commander. A general class soldier, wielding a giant axe. With him were two lesser knights and an archer.

The tactician glanced at the general, than pointed his sword at him.

"Just wait, your eminence, we're coming to get you."

* * *

 **Cliffhangers are dumb, yet here I am leaving everyone in suspense XD**

 **The next one is the dreaded chapter in the Plegia arc, so expect the feels.**

 **Please leave a review if you enjoyed, I'd much appreciate any form of feedback.**

 **With that, I leave you. Until the next time.**

 **Arms_Of_Sorrow**


	10. Failure

Failure. Heavy breathing, screams of agony and the crunchy sound of dirty boots hitting the moist soil.

Streaming rain clattered down on the sandy roads Robin was running on. The veil of rain made it extremely tough to see more than even five meters in front of him, and the rocky terrain the mountain pass was made up off gave the enemy the constant opportunity to ambush the Shepherds, an event the Plegians eagerly partook in. Robin felt like he was losing it. His plan had failed. The group had failed to achieve their mission's goal and was now beating a hasty retreat through the escape route, minus one female Exalt. So far the Shepherds had managed to fend off the attacks, but they were exhausted from hours of rigorous combat and weren't gonna hold out for long at this rate.

Counting the number of wounded and "healthy" Shepherds Robin repositioned the able- bodied soldiers to protect the injured ones. He looked for affirmation in Chrom 's eyes, but his question was met with an empty gaze. He couldn't rely on Chrom to lead the Shepherds for this battle. It all came down on his shoulders again.

"Keep the formation tight, whatever happens!" Shouted Robin.

Amidst their slow progress Robin mapped out the battlefield, however the dreary rain dulled most of his senses and hence his mental map had a worrying number of gaps in it. He knew that there had to be at least two or three garrisons up the steep hills sending out wyvern riders to ambush the group. However Robin noticed that these men didn't bear the same conviction their comrades protecting the royal court did earlier that day.

Emmerynn's speech. Her final words and her parting gift to the continent. Robin knew that it would play a huge role in the battle between the Alliance and the Plegians. Yet the fact that his personal mission had failed was too prominent to make him realize this. Another wave of wyvern attackers. He couldn't count on the Plegians to put up mock resistance, his conversation with the enemy general right before the battle had proven that. But they had lost their lust for blood, making the fighting easier for the Shepherds. In their advance two of the five wyvern riders were taken out by Virion 's lethal archery and Miriel 's spellcasting. The remaining three were fast approaching the group.

Moving his tired body into a crouched position Robin shot forward, sword arms slightly raised and maintaining his ducked form. Running towards his adversaries with Lon'qu and Gaius (Gaius being a trickster unit, Lon'qu being an assassin) in tow Robin abruptly halted a few meters before the Plegian squad leader and rolled forward, dodging an axe swing and positioning himself under the only part of the wyvern that wasn't protected, the abdomen area. He sprung up and vigorously slashed into the wyvern's weak spot, ripping the flesh in two and leaving the guts to spill out. The mighty beast plummeted to the ground, landing atop it's rider, rendering him unable to move. Running over to aid Gaius, who was caught in a dangerous duel with a wyvern knight by taking turns to attack, Robin killed his previous foe with a powerful cleave.

Gaius gritted painfully, so far he had skillfully dodged every attack his foe launched with an acrobatic somersault, but his attacks didn't connect. Readying his sword arm in his cape, a little ritual that always gave his attacking intent away he came upon his foe in a zigzagging pattern. The wyvern knight moved his steed back a few paces and circled around the trickster, keeping a moderate distance. Gaius then noticed his enemy switching axes and barely dodged a short axe thrown at him from mid range by sidestepping it. Immediately the wyvern knight approached him, catching Gaius in a bad spot and bringing down the axe. Or at least intending to. Robin had finally reached the two and intervened by deflecting the lop with the very tip of his blade. The man's arm shot backwards and the two Ylisseans finished him off with a combined action, simultaneously striking at him from two sides. Their blades met in the middle of the knights torso, and they jerked it back in a swift motion, leaving their foe to die from blood loss in his inability to move. Robin looked around, the rest of the Shepherds joined him the two again, but Lon'qu was missing. Robin feared the worst for a moment, but soon found the assassin approaching them from the carcass of a wyvern, it's owner lying two feet away, decapitated.

"The enemy commander must be residing to the north- west! We take him out, we escape unscathed."

Robin knew that it wasn't going to prove that simple. To reach the Plegian general the Ylisseans would have to cross a narrow mountain pass, while working their way through a stream of enemies and having to deal with ambushes from the mountains. And that was not even all, this way of a head- on charge would also create the opportunity for the enemy to circle around and bite them in the back.

Robin knew what needed to happen for his plan, which was rationally the best shot they had, but he was afraid to execute it.

The missing factor in this strategy was sacrifice.

Robin had to use a decoy to distract the enemy , but the decoy had to be one of significance. In this weather he could possibly fool the enemy into thinking the attack would take place in a different spot than it would actually happen. However he let that thought shoot past. A few stray soldiers weren't going to convince the Plegians of a possible attack, no, the decoy person had to be of enough importance to lure away bulk of Plegians and keep them occupied. Robin was faced with a dilemma. Chrom? No. The loss of another royal member who happened to be the next Exalt would prove fatal for the kingdom, especially with the suspicions against Lissa being a member of the royal family. Lissa would be more rational in that line of thinking, but losing another sister would probably drive Chrom insane, and Robin himself wasn't going to let anything happen to her. No. It had to be someone else who greatly impacted the army.

It had to be him. to let Gaius tank the frontline

Going alone would prove to be suicide though, he had to bring at least two people with them. He glanced at Lo 'qu, his silent training partner, who silently joined him despite not knowing of his plan. The second person he chose was… He looked around, he would need another ranged unit typically to make a good composition he was about to pick Virion when Miriel blocked his way.

"Choose me."

A big drop of rain splat on Robin's forehead. "You can't, Miriel. Right now you are the only one capable enough after me to strategize for us. In fact you have aided me many times with our strategy. You are out number two strategist. Our back- up tactician. You- "

Robin cut himself off, as he saw that his words were not reaching the red-haired mage.

He sighed heavily. "Okay… Shepherds! Listen to me!"

He spent the next five minutes explaining the plan to use him as a bait to lure away the enemy, and then separated himself from the group. The last things he saw when he walked away was the blank stare on Chrom 's face and the pure horror that etched Lissa 's. Sheathing his sword and taking out an Arclightening tome he, along with his two allies, ran towards a group of enemies whilst making as much noise as possible. He slowed down a bit to let Lon'qu tank the frontline , but maintained a high speed together with Miriel, who was covering the sides and the air with her spellslinging.

Lon'qu was tearing through the enemy lines, his assassin style of fighting dispatching his foes with great speed at the cost of rapid stamina loss. Robin's job was to cover him from getting overwhelmed in the seconds he needed to catch his breath. Directing the mana to his left arm, which, apart from holding the tome, was hanging limp beside his body, and using it as a pool to tap mana from instead of using his original source (note that he did this in order to preserve more mana) Robin shot off controlled bursts of Arclightening, which held off the Plegians for the desired amount of time. However this process was doomed to fail after some time. Miriel had her hands full with dealing with reinforcements trying to attack them in their backs for her to help Robin, and the tactician felt he was sapping the book dry of its mana*and soon saw the end approaching, he hoped with all his being that the main troop had reached the enemy general.

That dreaded moment came, and Robin's fears took form. His sapped book fell on the ground, lifeless. Lon'qu got badly injured and had to retreat and on top of that the enemy was starting to encircle the three. There was only one option left. Robin took out a tome which looked like it was useless, yet this was not the case. This was one of the rare tomes known as "Dying Blaze".

It only held three charges, but its power was way more brute than any other tome, and so perfectly complemented his way of "wild" spell casting, something he wanted to use.

Robin was going to sacrifice himself to allow Miriel and Lon'qu to escape.

He threw down the tome and spread out his arms in front of him, he concentrated, felt the mana enter his body and… Then the flow broke. He opened his eyes to find Miriel forcing him to break the line that bound him to the book.

"Wha- ? Miriel? Why are you- " He stuttered in confusion. The mage pushed him aside and took a widespread stance, dropping the tome on the ground and spreading her arms in front of her. Robin recognized the stance. Miriel was going to use wild spellcasting.

"Miriel, no! Don't do it! I need you to lead the Shepherds after I pass!"

The woman slowly turned around.

"I beg to differ, a lonely individual such as myself would never possess the necessities to direct even a small body of human lives. You however are have the capabilities needed."

Robin did not try to convince her. She was right. In his selfish actions he wanted to pass the burden on Miriel. Selfishly dying and making himself look like the hero who sacrificed himself to save his comrades. He looked at Miriel with a horrified expression. But, in that moment something very special happened. Miriel was smiling. Not her cynical smile, but a genuine, warm emotion directed towards Robin.

"Farewell, Tactician, you were always my most eager student."

Robin could only nod . Saying no further words he picked up Lon'qu, and whilst fighting back against the tears, escaped with a passed out assassin on his shoulders, running away from the lone figure facing tens of Plegians at the same time. Bright, colored explosions shot up behind him, and he did not look back, he ran in the direction of the rest of the Shepherds, and soon joined them in their final struggle. They had reached the enemy generals position. Who waited for a lone challenger. Leaving Lon 'qu in the care of Libra and Lissa Robin stepped forward, and the entire Midmire fell silent. The only sound left was the drawing of weapons and the strokes of rain hitting the soil with a clattering sound. Robin shot forward, the enemy general Mustafa shot forward. Their weapons clashed, producing a sharp sound resounding through the valley. Robin jumped back and came upon his enemy again, this time with an upwards jab. Mustafa parried it. Both repositioning themselves they prepared for another strike, the final one. Robin tapped the ground with his left foot, moved it backwards, readied his blade, and, after his opponent readied himself as well, shot forward on his legs. The two met in the middle of their path. Mustafa reached out first, making a horizontal slash, but Robin outsmarted him, jumping on his broad weapon and launching himself from it, making a graceful somersault and killing his foe in the same move with his blade. The Berserker fell to the ground and uttered his final words.

"Please.. Spare my men."

Robin stared at him with blank eyes, and nodded. He closed Mustafa's eyes in a sign of respect and waved off his soldiers, who silently collected their fallen general's body and left the Shepherds in peace. Robin looked at the small fortress Mustafa stood guard at and noticed the carriages and personnel meant to take the Shepherds away from the battle of conflict left untouched. He smirked sourly, then turned around to face the Shepherds.

"Let's leave this hellhole."

* * *

 ***For those that may be confused, I have devised my own way of casting magic in the FE universe. First the caster needs the tome, which contains inscribings to cast the particular spell in a mana- like form so a user can carry it in his mana system. (if you sap it dry of "mana" the book will "break" like it does in the game) However you also need your own base mana as a sort of "fuel". Like I mentioned earlier mages in old times used to use their blood (I read this online somewhere about the fire emblem games), but since then it has evolved in using mana as a more regulated and safer fuel. So the book is needed as catalyst, it sends its inscribings into the casters mana system in a mana like form, then the user supplements it with his own mana to give the spell a body and shoot it off. It kind of like a scientific reaction, the "book mana" is different each time and determined by the inscribings, whilst the casters' is not (since in the FE universe all humans are born with a pool of mana as an extra system apart from their nervous system, circulatory system etc), this is how spells can differ in materialization.**

 **That was this chapter. The next one will finish the arc (I swear.)**

 **Also… First death in the Shepherd company. Let's hope it's the only one.**

 **Until the next Chapter,**

 **Arms_Of_Sorrow**


	11. Fall of the Mad King

"Darun!"

The plegian myrmidon turned around to see one of his fellow soldiers approach him with a stern look on his face.

"What's up, Ramón?" He asked his friend, who was normally wearing Dark mage robes but now uncharacteristically was donning his casual clothing. He stretched out his arm and offered him some of the wine that was left in the green jug held in his right hand. Ramón politely declined the offer and instead went for his arm, dragging a confused Darus to a secluded place where he knew that they wouldn't be shadowed.

Darun gave his comrade a confused look.

"What's this all about then?" He asked, awkwardly increasing the distance between the two. "You're going to confess your undying love to me or what?" He smirked. Ramón rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Focus, Darun, this is important." His eyes darted around, trying to look if their conversation wasn't being overheard. "Listen... Don't you feel like… Like this war has come to its end?"

Darun 's eyes widened. "What?"

"Oh come on, Darun, didn't you hear the Exalt 's last words? Before she… You' know. Passed. Many of our brethren have already laid down their weapons and those of us who still took up their arms have been mercilessly butchered by the Ylissean/ Feroxi Alliance."

The myrmidon frowned. "So? We are the palace guard, personal guards to our king and queen and renowned for our strength. Might I remind you of the hardships we had to endure to climb up to the place we are at now?"

"Open your eyes, Darun!" Shouted Ramón. "We have lost this war! And you know how our life was at that gruesome palace! The Great Queen would murder her staff, our fellow Plegians, by the day! And the King did nothing to stop it! It would be madness to reside with a Mad King such as Gangrel, one who has been toxic to our country!"

Darun pushed Ramón back. "You idiot! Is that how little our pledge of bondage affects you? The seal that was burned into our right arm as a sign of our loyalty?!" He exclaimed angrily, baring his arm to show the burn marks in the form of the Royal Plegian Crest.

Ramón's eyes focused on the sandy soil. "You see… We in our squad.. We… We decided that we are no longer going to serve the Mad King.. And we are on the brink of escaping. That's why I took you here."

With eyes as big as plates Darun watched his best friend extend an arm with a desperate expression on his face.

"Join us, Darun. Let us leave this hellhole before we perish in it."

The myrmidon was disgusted. He cast his hateful eyes upon the man he had called his best friend for over fifteen years and gripped the hilt of his sword, clenching it with his trembling fist.

"That is high treason, Ramón! You _dare_ leave our sworn King alone in battle? Hah, _disgusting_!"

He struggled to unbind his bandana from his wrist with his right hand, but succeeded d somehow wrapped it around his forehead with one arm.

"Traitors will be dealt with and disposed of, Ramón. This is your last chance to abandon your idiotic idea!" He gritted, unsheathing his sword and slipping into a combat stance.

Ramón let out a deep sigh. "I knew you would say that. Well, I tried to convince you." He whistled sharply and suddenly Darun found himself surrounded by a group of to be- Plegian deserters from Ramón 's company, who had seemingly hidden themselves among the scenery for the length of the discussion.

The dark mage rested his face in his hands. "Such a damn shame, Darun." He looked at the myrmidon with pity and then turned his back to him.

"Kill him."

Darun was hopelessly outnumbered, his only hope was to find high ground by scaling one of the dunes, but he was halted from doing that from every direction. He knew one thing though: remaining stationary in the epicenter of the little botched circle the deserters had created around him would spell out his death with one hundred percent certainty. He decided to break through on the side with the most axe users to boost his chances a little. He readied his strike arm, steeled his mind and charged to the west, roaring loudly in the process. As soon as he was in striking range he lashed out, trying to cut the ruffian, figuring that his opponents lack of armour would make the act easier. He failed though, as his foe deflected his attack with a strong perpendicular swing, blocking his weapon in its course.

Darun saw the rest approaching fast, and he knew it was now or never. Not breaking contact with the axe he shifted into a lower position, before suddenly pulling back, making his opponent hunch forward and fall into his eager blade. This action had rid Darun of one opponent, but he had unluckily ended up in a position perfectly in line for an axe swing of the Hero- class unit that towered above him. This would be the end. Darun would die protecting his king. He would die a hero. The myrmidon closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable to come.

One second passed.

Another second passed.

Darun felt no strike.

" Why am I not dead yet? Wait, what is happenin-" Darun opened his eyes to only be shocked. He screamed in fear and surprise as he saw the hero from just a moment ago on his knees, two arrows shot through the side of his head. He looked at Darun with dead, fish- like eyes, before he and his gaping mouth came tumbling down. Darun jerkily freed one arm from the corpse of his previous victim and quickly pushed the Hero back. He scrambled on his feet to see all of his assailants dying one by one. They perished in a sea of arrows and sword moves. His eyes widened in shock.

" Ylisseans? W- why now?" He brought out unwillingly.

Darun reared his head to see Ramón in his last moments, flat on the ground with his head forced up by the soldier that was holding him by his hair.

" Ugh.. Darun, _ruuun_!" He shouted, seconds later his throat was slit and his hands flew up to his head. He writhed in pain, twisting and turning on the groud whilst making an agonizing gurgling sound.

Darun was gripped by fear. "Ramón! No!" He shouted. In a state of total panic he crawled up the dune, where his unsuspecting troop was stationed. He reached the top and was spotted by one of his fellow soldiers.

" Darun..? What is-

The myrmidon violently interrupted him, waving his arms like a madman and jumping up and down

" Ylisseans! Ylissean attack! Prepare yourself! Pass along the word to king Gangr-

"Lethality!" Said a voice behind Darun. He never finished his sentence, his neck was sliced from behind in mere seconds by an unknown soldier . The last thing he saw before his death where the cold eyes of the brown-haired assassin that had struck him.

" Be silent."

* * *

Robin's boot sank a bit in the sand when he stepped forward. This was the last battle to fight. Gangrel was right on the other side of the battlefield. He was glad to see Chrom regain his guts once again when he paired the Exalt up with him.

"Panne and Gaius, move up three spaces! Frederick and Lissa, position yourself diagonally two spaces from them. Oh, and Frederick, equip your javelin."

" Yes, Sir!"

" Robin!"

The tactician looked ahead to see Virion and Lon'qu return from carrying out their orders.

"Status report." He said sternly.

" But of course." Said Virion, making a dignified bow. "It's as you said. Plegian guards behind that small pack of trees up ahead. They have been dealt with."

" Good." Said Robin. " They are aware of our presence now. They probably already began to suspect something to be amiss when their scouts didn't return from their posts but now they're certain of our arrival. Everyone! Remain stationary!"

" Yes, Sir!"

It was as Robin had said. The word of the Ylissean arrival had spread like wildfire, and soon the entire Plegian formation was on the move, ready to crush the Shepherds as if they were bugs. Robin had saved the honor of dealing with Gangrel for the Shepherds. In an act of final cowardice the King had escaped the Royal palace with the last of his guards, who stayed loyal to his cause. However moving to an open area on a lower level than the surrounding dunes was a moronic move, as the Shepherds had ample of time to prepare for the battle before they entered the field of future conflict.

Robin had it all planned out. Gangrel wasn't much of a strategist, and since all his great- generals had either capitulated or been beheaded he had adopted a foolish one – charge strategy using his last forces.

The first wave of Plegians was upon the Shepherds. Robin had paired them up and positioned them in a pattern following a zigzagging line. The troops in the front would deal with the Plegian ranged troops and the units in the back would take care of the melee units that would be forced in through the gaps. It worked. The Shepherds were mercilessly slaughtering the Plegian attackers in their desperate charge. Three garrisons were stationed to the northwest of their position, but they were none of Robin's concern. He anticipated that as soon as they had dealt with Gangrel his troops would disperse in confusion and be of no harm to him at all.

" Shepherds! We march on!" Shouted the tactician.

With the intent of clearing the path to Gangrel from potential outmaneuvering he charged forward, muttering the ancient tongue to himself and occasionally shooting off an Elwind. He had moved the Shepherds out of their line and was now storming the field with an arrowhead formation. He looked forward, only one line of defense before reaching Gangrel. He cast aside his tome and accelerated in speed. Not letting go of this pace he came upon his enemy, jumping right into the swing of a iron spear. His incredibly risky jump worked out well though, as he had landed in close quarter. His opponent's weapon was too long for usage in such a short range, but Robin's wasn't. He shove his blade down the soldiers throat, yanking it back from his mutilated skull with brute force. Looking to his sides he saw the other Plegians being disposed off with haste. The only thing that rested in front of him was the Mad King himself.

" Chrom, this is it!" He shouted.

" Let's finish this, Robin!" Replied Chrom. Together they stormed Gangrel' s position. Halfway Robin split off, he had decided to leave the honors to the Exalt and instead focussed on the guards. He slid in close and kicked the first, a regular mage, to the ground. Impaling the man with his sword he used the corpse as a meat shield to approach the other guard, who had no idea how to approach the tactician. Robin's pace was slowed because of the corpse he carried, and so his foe opted for a quick strike. However Robin had a trick up his sleeve. Right when the Plegian was about to strike Robin abandoned the corpse and dashed back. The swordmaster had no choice but to jump the body, and as a result was slowed in that one moment. That one moment was all Robin needed. He dashed forward and took out a spare sword, which he had kept hidden all that time. Finishing off his opponent he looked in Chrom 's direction. He saw the Exalts lips move and the Mad King hunching over from laughter. Chrom 's face stiffened and the two confronted each other.

The clash didn't take long.

Gangrel clearly wasn't enough of a brawler to be able to keep up with Chrom, and unsurprisingly he didn't put up much of a fight. He raised his arm to caue one bolt of lightning to appear from his Levin sword, but Chrom dodged it effortlessly. The Exalt dashed to his location, using the momentum in a long sweep with his falchion. Gangrel dodged that, but the strike scraped his leg, which made him land painfully. He twisted his ankle, and wasn't able to move quickly after that. It was game over. The Exalt came upon him one last time and made a brute cleave from the ginger- haired kings left ear to deep in his left leg, he yanked it back and resolved with another swing in the side. He then turned his back to the fallen king, as Gangrel died in writhing agony from the exhaustive amount of blood loss.

Upon seeing the deed done Robin fell to his knees. Balancing on his bloodied sword with two hands he rested his head against the hilt and closed his eyes.

" It's over."

* * *

 **And that concludes the Plegian arc. I'd like to thank the people who have read this and the people who are keeping up with this story so far (even if you're not officially following me, I can see in my stats that certain people keep revisiting ; ).**

 **I might take a little break after uploading this, gather some steam for the next big arc.**

 **That's it. Don't forget to leave a review if you enjoyed the story, or if you didn't, there is always room for approval. I should prob get back to cleaning up the chapters now I have resolved the arc.**

 **Much love,**

 **Arms_Of_Sorrow**


	12. The Interbellum pt 1

Robin snapped out of his distraction with the wildlife and focused on the straw dummy stationed right in front of him. He swept the muddy sand off his boots and proceeded to close the little wooden gate behind him, subsequently sealing off the little makeshift fence that surrounded him and the dummy. He was at a clearing in the woods not far from Yllistol. This was the place where the company had first encountered Risen, but after that discovery the royal army had made quick work of the rising threat, and it had now once again turned into a quiet, serene place where he could practice undisturbed, far away from the noisy streets in the capitol.

It had been two months since the First Ylissean/ Feroxi Alliance had defeated the Plegian army on their own soil. The whole continent of Archanea was in a state of turmoil and disrepair after the conflict, especially the halidom of Ylisse. Before being forced to retreat to deal with the counter- invading Alliance the Plegian armies had wreaked great havoc on the Ylissean lands, sometimes wiping entire villages from the map, razing the buildings to the ground and committing genocide on a daily basis. All in the name of retribution for the Ylissean crusade fifteen years ago. The damage done was immense, and repairs to the halidom would take a hefty amount of resources and gold, luckily the Plegians treasure chambers were stacked with treasures and other such riches. Apart from Ylisse the land of Plegia too had (unsurprisingly) suffered huge destruction. Robin soon realized that using part of the pilfered money for repairs to the land of Plegia would most certainly mend their broken hearts from both the crusade and the most recent conflict, and that Chrom 's staggering popularity would probably convince the Naga- worshipping masses to forgive the Plegians and receive their refugees, but none of these actions were taken. The wounded, bitter feelings etched in Chrom's heart combined with the "winner-takes-all" mentality of the Feroxi made the victors leave the Plegian people to fend for their themselves. With no funds, food or any form of aid. Robin wasn't quite sure how he felt on this decision yet, but that haunting moment where Emmerynn turned herself into a martyr had made him decide to abide by his lord's every command. He would destroy the world, how big the struggle may be, and rebuild single- handedly if he was ordered to do so. A little pestering voice in the back of his head condescendingly kept telling him that that was only to compensate for his failure in retrieving Emmerynn, but he suppressed that thought every time it popped up. In fact, the whole thing ate away at him and was wearing him down. Deep down inside he knew he hadn't accepted this cold and calculating farce he had kept up for a while now, and while everyone praised him for his victory against Plegia as Ylisse 's strategist he still felt that he had failed. As a strategist, as a leader, and as a friend. In fact he had never been more uncertain than he was now. Maybe that's why he had taken up this strict training regime. To keep him occupied, to make him feel he wasn't spending his time in vain, to keep his inner demons at rest. Getting into shape was the least of his concerns, he wouldn't be able to keep up a physical training regime with his lack of sleep anyway. So instead he focused on his mage craft, specifically his wild spellcasting. His regulation of mana had become top notch, and he was now able to gather the smallest amounts of mana at any part of his body and make it combust, giving him the ability to fire of high level spells from the tips of his fingers in the process.

The Tactician broke his train of thought again and exhaled wearily. Playtime was over now. Ruffling through the inner lining of his robe he soon found the tome he had brought with him today: wind, low level air- element spell that focused more on slicing through obstacles than on producing flashy explosions. Perfect, seeing as he would have to make a high effort to make the spell combust.

Widening his stance he hunched forward slightly, stretching out his arms and looking down the length of his index fingers, which were pointed towards the mannequin, as if using an iron sight. Now came the usual drills. With a slow and steady pace Robin worked up a small amount of mana from the book he had dropped in front of him and started to move it up and down in his lower body, like a calm wave rinsing against the rocky cliffs. To maintain this steady flow Robin mixed the book mana with an unknown force he had recently found deep within himself. It was intertwined with his mana, and he wasn't sure what it was., but it had helped him and he was grateful to have such a convenient source of mana. Robin concentrated, drill two was about to ensue. He took an even wider stance, but shifted his right leg forward in order to retain his balance. He drew a lengthy breath and suddenly sapped huge amounts of mana from the wind tome, using his own mana and taking care to not mingle it with the book mana he suppressed it in his feet, leaving it there for as long as he could, the whole process was comparable to giving a bottle of fizzy a good shake and then loosening the bottle cap a little. Robin was heaving at an accelerated pace, and streams of sweat were dripping down the nape of his hood. He held his pose for as long as he possibly could, and then, when he felt his limit approaching, let the flow of outlandish mana perpetrate his body, washing away his mana in a violent stream of energy and rushing up to his torso, using his last strength to regulate it to his arms he let it out through his index fingers. The normally mostly harmless gust of wind (to veterans at least) came out as a storm, soaring forward, cutting through the air and moving at the mannequin in a matter of milliseconds. Upon contact it cut through it and exploded halfway, releasing a powerful storm of wind and blowing Robin a few steps back. The force of the impact threw up a cloud of sand, and once the dust had settled Robin saw what was left of the dummy, it had broken off and was helplessly lying on the ground, most of it removed by the blast with small embers still smoldering in the wake of the spell. Little strands of hay were slowly falling down prior to being thrown up in the air, and Robin decided to dispose of the poor mannequin and lay it to rest with the others. Walking over to pick it up he notice he had blast away part of the fence.

"Dammnit."

Reminding himself to fix that after training he bend over to grab the decimated dummy. However as soon as he reached for it he started to feel dizzy and lightheaded, he darted around a bit and then felt a sudden surge of exhaustion overtake him, unable to do anything his legs collapsed and he fell back.

"Damnit it, used too much in one g-." He gasped and blacked out, collapsing in the soft sand to descend into unconsciousness.

* * *

"Gah.. Ugh.. Where.. Where am I?" Robin slowly opened his eyes and vaguely made out the contours of the interior of a small shack. He was indoors, but had no recollection of returning to his room. Upon further inspection he realized this wasn't his room at all! Where was he? Was he being held hostage? Had his deeds in Plegia caught up with him at least? Was this meagre shack to be his final resting place? The room was dimly lit by a candle on a table far away from him, it was surrounded by gory utensils; saws, sheers, cutters and other tools. The makeshift bow that rested against the table also didn't go unnoticed. The flame of the candle that shone on the utensils cast eerie long shadows over the creaked wooden floor that spanned the cottage.

"Oh gods, torture tools!" Was the first thing that came to Robin. Every muscle in his body was screaming at him to escape this horrid place. But he couldn't move his body an ounce. It was at that moment the Tactician experienced true fear, something he had not felt in a long time. It was a painful reminder of how utterly human he truly was. His eyes were frantically darting around, looking for a way to escape when he heard the last noise he wanted to hear. Approaching footsteps from the other room. The floorboards creaked heavily under their weight and Robin was still unable to get up. The door opened, and Robin saw a shadowy figure approach him from the darkened side of the room. This was it. He would die. He was here, unbeknownst to any of his allies. Maybe this was an act of retribution, maybe a cult that they had overlooked in their cleanse of the forest. Or maybe it was just a psychopath killer who saw a helpless man black out in the forest. None of that mattered, as he realized these were his final moments, he at least wanted to take his killer with him to the afterlife. He felt he had the slightest of mana left, as well as the weight of an almost depleted arcfire in his left pocket, if he were to spread the mana to his torso and make it combust it would blast his heart out, subsequently killing him and any foe that was in his vicinity.

The figure had almost stepped into the faint light provided by the candle. Robin closed his eyes, and counted each step it made.

Three more steps.

Two more steps.

One more step.

Now was the time. He spread his arms open wide and brought up all the mana he possibly could. Then, he was ready to combust. He pushed back the flow, and then, when he had steeled his mind. Unleashed it all! This whole shack was seconds away from being annihilated!

"Perish." Gritted Robin.

He let it all free, and expected the explosion to come.

The explosion didn't happen.

Instead Robin felt a cold, slender hand on his chest, and the mana returning to the book in some otherworldly way. He opened his left eye in confusion, and then recognized the slender figure of the dark haired Plegian woman that was bend over him.

"Wouldn't want you to exert your use of mana any more than this, would we?"

"Tharja..?" Said Robin in confusion.

The dark mage grinned. "Hello, my darling."

"Tha- what- What the hell are you doing here Tharja?!" Screamed Robin.

"Shush, darling, you blacked out after your usual training, and I had to mend your wounds.. Tee-hee."

"Wait. You- You took care of me after I lost consciousness? And- But wait, how do you know of my training regime? Have you been stalking you again?"

The dark mages facial expression suddenly changed from loving and caring to dark and malicious.

"It's an act of love Robin. And I have to make sure no one harms you, see?" She asked.

Robin didn't know if he should feel grateful or disturbed by those things, but one thing he did know for certain. He had upset her, and possibly hurt her more than he thought he would with that sentence.

He scratched the back of his head.

"Look, I didn't mean it like that, I was just surprised I was suddenly here and- Hmpf?!"

Robin eyes widened in surprise, as he suddenly felt Tharja 's lips on his own… And her voluptuous chest on his throat and upper torso.

He struggled to remove him from her embrace, even though he had to admit it was pleasant.

"Tharja?!"

"Tee- hee, I just love it when you apologize to me like that." She grinned. "And you taste good.." She added. Robin shook his head to clear his mind, and was ready to ask where the hell they were.

He didn't get that chance though, as suddenly the wall left to them burst open and a humongous beast came waltzing in. It was in a flurry, so he couldn't see who or what it was. Tharja acted prematurely and dragged the Tactician to the ground, embracing him in a fetal position.

"Who are you? If you have come to take my darling, then- Oh. It's just you." She remarked crossly.

"Just you? What are you going on about?" Robin stood up and then quickly recognized the beast to be the Shepherd Panne in beastform.

"…Panne? And what are you doing here?" He asked.

"I was about to ask you the very same thing. What are you doing in MY… Umm.. abode.. Was it abode?"

"… You live here?" Asked Robin.

"Well I have to live _somewhere_ in the time we are not on a conquest."

"Yeah, but.. here? If I'm correct we have provided everyone in our company with a good place to stay, either residing in the Shepherds barracks or the royal garrison. Why are you.. Here?"

"Hmpf." Said Panne, whilst returning to her human form.

"None of those are close to nature or wildlife, contrary to you man spawn, who loathe nature and build walls to keep it away from your petty cities, we taguel have embraced it. As a result it has accepted us back. And we always feel the need to be in its presence."

Robin closed his eyes, he wasn't expecting a lecture, then again he wasn't expecting any of this.

"And of course you come here to practice using man-made tools, don't you." Tharja remarked with a snarky expression on her face. Panne was clearly taken aback by this remark. She was now looking at Tharja with a hostile expression, and the dark mage was returning her gaze with clearly visible maliciousness. Robin decided to move out of the shack in the hopes of deflating the whole situation. He patted Tharja on the back and pointed to the doorway.

"Tharja, let's leave."

The dark mage obliged, but not before giving the taguel one last hostile look.

She left the room first, leaving Robin in the open doorway.

"Panne, thank you for letting me stay here.. Umm.. Let me treat you to some.. Carrots, one day."

Panne 's face softened a bit as she nodded her head. "Goodbye, man-spawn."

"Goodbye, Taguel."

* * *

 **That's it. Terribly sorry for the lack of updates, but after I returned from vacation the unthinkable happened: My laptop broke! Hence I couldn't write :(**

 **I'm going to have an odd uploading scheme too since school's starting again and I want to perform well. Apart from that, hope you enjoyed reading, even though this chapter was a bit boring. The Valm arc is fast approaching!**

 **Byee**

 **Arms_Of_Sorrow**


	13. The Interbellum pt 2

Something felt off. Something didn't add up. Something was amiss, and Robin knew it.

At that time nobody had any idea. Nobody knew of the upcoming massacre that was soon to engulf the world, not even the nation's best generals. Only Robin. Even though neither of the current two nations on the continent were in any shape to combat each other, the tactician felt that a war would take place sooner or later. He already had dispersed spies -some under the rouse of diplomats and some just flat – out thiefs (Gaius included) – to the corners of the continent, hoping to see any attack arrive prematurely. The world had been restored to its peaceful pre- war state for half a year now, yet reparations were still underway. This basically meant that Robin had neither the time nor the resources to rebuild the Ylissean army back up to its former glory, a fact that annoyed the tactician highly. To compensate for the lack of quantity in the Ylissean troops Robin had decided to up the training regimes, hoping to make up for this issue by raising the quality of the soldiers to at least be able to take on a force greater in numbers. To set a good example Robin also aimed to turn the Shepherds into a super- elite group that would be near unbeatable. However, the reparations still took their toll on the groups funding and time, time being the biggest one of their problems. The Tactician however, soon found a solution to this glaring issue, suggested to him by Ricken, who, after Miriel 's death, became Robin's number one advisor on scientific matters.

Just when Robin had reached a slight deadlock in his strive for a good balance between training and the halidom the young magician had reached out to him, and told him of a secluded place where they could train undisturbed that was mentioned in the books of ancient times. A solemn place, located far away to the southern provinces of the halidom. A place where, according to the tales of old, the hands of time had stopped moving. Naturally Robin was extremely skeptical at first, but he soon reminded himself that they lived in a world of vibrant magecraft. Plus a quiet remote place in the south would at least be a good place to set up a hideout of some sorts, or even the entire Shepherd base so they could finally upgrade from their dusty little room in the Royal barracks. Going here would also be a nice fieldtrip for the shepherds, since they had been doing nothing than paperwork and repairing wrecked buildings for months. It would be a nice trip in a serene place, where at the very least the Shepherds could train undisturbed...

Is what Robin had thought.

The Shepherd ruffled his messy hair and swept some sweat off his forehead. Rubbing his temples the Tactician tried to recap the situation that had unfolded. The books of old weren't actually that far off the truth, time did freeze at this place. However they forgot to mention that this place was in fact a gate to other dimension, or rather other dimensions. Aptly named the Outrealm Gate, Robin had uncharacteristically decided to take the leap into the unknown. Now they were on what seemed to be an isle in the middle of nowhere fighting heroes of ancient tales that materialized from… Playing cards… Because "the old man Hubba", a complete stranger, had lost them to a girl he fancied. And the madness didn't end there. On their side were the very same animated playing cards, including the legendary hero king Marth himself. He looked over to his left to see Chrom seizing up the enemy. Robin wasn't well versed in the nation's history, but their foes were surely all very adept at fighting. Then again he had the lodestar one his side. There was one mage stationed near the village near the south when the battle begun, Marth and Alm (another one of his allies) had dealt with her before the Tactician could even blink, and so they had full control over the right side of the isle. The two villages had closed their gates the moment the fighting started, so Robin didn't have to worry about the curious villagers to interfere with their conflict. The conditions were perfect and the Shepherds had the first move, and the Tactician was not about to waste it. He closed the distance between him and his nearest opponent by as much as he could, had all the other shepherds follow him and had them wait in ambush in the nearest forest. To lure her and any of her potential opponents out he closed the distance between her more, but it was all for naught as she noticed the ruffling leaves behind him. He shouldn't had told a griffon rider to set up an ambush in a forest that was stupid. Strangely enough his opponent didn't back off, instead she drew her blade and charged at him. Alone.

"Stupid." Thought Robin. He slipped his hands out of his pockets and crouched slightly in anticipation. He wanted to test his reflexes. With great speed his foe charged him, using the momentum of the run to make an upward slash from her bent position. Robin athletically dodged it by leaning back at the last second, and then widened the distance between them by jumping back a few paces. His opponent's physique was remarkably strong, but still within his estimations.

He paced back, purposely leaving himself open to a thrust which would be fatal if landed, but the girl didn't bite. Instead she followed slowly followed his movements and prepared for another upward slash. As her stance shifted, the Tactician realized that his trick was going to cost him his life if he was to continue it. As soon as he regained his position the girl shot forward again.

"Foolish chivalry." Robin thought.

Contrary to her previously fluent form her movements were strangely rigid this time around. Robin assumed she was trying to land an Astra- technique on him. By doing the math he had to dodge at least 5 times, for even one connected hit would envelop a fury of attacks, leaving his chance at survival at a shocking twenty percent. Guess he had to cheat a little bit on this one. He waited until she was closer to him and then faked a hasty retreat. Running towards the brushes at the edge of the island, Robin slipped a tome into his hand, calculating the distance between him and his pursuer, as well as the distance between him and the scenery, he slowly began to cast the spell, adding a little oomph to it to make it burst. Then, he used a jump, twirling his body mid –air to face his foe. She was still hoping to land her Astra, and it was that naïve thought that lured her into Robin's trap. In a blink, he cast Bolganone, setting the area in front of him on fire. He landed on his back, but still hurried to get up, he knew this hadn't done her in.

The impact had thrown the girl backwards, checking her vitals, she found that she somehow hadn't suffered any injuries. The spell had turned up quite a bit of smog though, and she had lost vision on her prey. Judging from the sound of her allies engaging the enemy forces, she decided to continue her pursuit. She threw her blade behind her and, whilst roaring savagely, she cut through the smoke, and blindly charged forward.

A mistake. A blind, naïve mistake. The moment his pursuer emerged from the smog she was riddled with half a quiver of arrows from Virion 's hand. She took three to the chest and then dropped on one knee, quietly accepting her fate as a staunch Frederick ran her through his spear.

"Being chivalrous won't save milord." He said, as he made a broad sweep, tossing her carcass against the ground. Upon her demise, she curiously disappeared into thin air, only leaving a single card to come whirling down in her wake. The Great Knight caught it. "Hmm.. Seems like that old nut was right. I ought to show this to milord."

"Frederick, Stahl, fill the gap the ranged troops have left you two plots to Vaike 's left!" Said Robin's voice from a heightened position near the cliffs. He had a favorable look from up here, contrary from the one he got from the midst of the battlefield. His orders strongly resounded through the valley, and the battle was progressing nicely. The pair of Stahl and Frederick were the perfect sweepers, quick, not necessarily light- weight but instead resilient. Supported by the Tactician himself with the occasional tactically placed ranged spell they could act as a temporary gap closer, either defensively to block off the enemy while Robin repositioned his troops to eliminate the attackers, or offensively, pushing a lead and chaining a minor victory into a one of larger scale. Either way their tactical value was high, always circling around the Shepherds' flanks.

"Vaike! Chrom! Pair up and advance to the nearest garrison, with covering fire from Ricken!"

"Yessir, leave it to Teach!" Shouted Vaike, following a quiet Chrom to approach the stronghold with swift speed. Ricken had a hard time keeping up with the pair of former training rivals. Yet he kept up, and was able to get out one strong Arcthunder before having to regain his stamina, just as Robin had expected. The blast of compressed lightening rocketed towards it target, and Robin bolstered it mid- air with a spell of his own, noting that he was still depending on Miriel 's research after months. The reinforced spell hit the enemy swordfighter, knocking her back. However despite having just taken the brunt of a double third- tier spell she was still able to dodge Chrom's gash. Unfortunately for her Vaike 's axe strike came next, coming upon her with wild uncontrollable force and caving in her torso, breaking bones like twigs and throwing her on her back. Blood splurging out everywhere, she gurgled in her last moments of resistance. Chrom threw his companion a crossly gaze, which the warrior averted by shrugging it off and turning his back on the two. The Exalt then ended her misery with a controlled pierce. He yanked his sword back, collected the card and stood up to see Vaike rushing forward and savagely hacking in on a troubadour, throwing her of her horse and killing her in cold blood. He shivered, quelled his conscience with saying: "Just playing cards, Chrom, just plain, simple, cards." And then moved on.

Robin moved the other troops up, having the Frederick/ Stahl pairing cutting of a Pegasus rider with Virion in tow and making Ricken engage the mage that was trying to outflank the band. The Tactician himself forcing his mind to ignore the fact that all these cards that portrayed female legends were in the hands of a senile, lonely old man and instead focusing on finding a new vantage point.

Arriving at his new location he found that any further commands were unnecessary as the troops had been almost completely vanquished. Only their commander remained. He signaled Chrom to come meet him, pulled his hood over his head and turned his back on the others whilst giving the sign for acting as seeing fit. He didn't wish to see the Shepherds throw themselves on the mage like a pack of rabid dogs. After the deed was done Robin rallied all the cards and proceeded to deliver them to the old man in the nearest village.

Only the bloodstained grassy fields remained.


End file.
